40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 591 109. Dark Expedition (33)

The ground is shaking.

The demon named Van Cleef can easily detect this, and, not only that, it can also capture every molecule in the air that has become discordant because of its presence here.

This matter violates all scientific laws. Why can a creature's mere existence shake the stability of the material world?

Any scientist will feel a headache for this matter, but probably only a few of them can face this challenge and face it with their chests. Others will probably only fall into the trap of self-doubt and madness.

Of course, this is based on another thing that is completely true, that is, the truth of the empire is still popular in the empire.

Only then will there be so many people who believe in science, progress and truth. Only then will there be so many researchers with simple ideas waiting to be pierced by something.

But Van Cleef knew that now another trend of thought is controlling the empire, and that trend of thought has even reserved a place for things like it.

It, and them.

The empire simply and directly calls them demons. The evil creature from the High Heaven, the essence of chaos, the monster that craves to devour human souls.

Each one is true, and each one is the refinement summed up by the Empire and mankind after paying the price of blood. Van Cleef appreciates this refinement, and if possible, he even wants to supplement it, but he has lost the power to do so.

And the qualifications.

What exists in the world now is the demon Van Cleef, not the captain of the Eighth Legion. The human with that identity has long been wiped out, and there is nothing left.

Van Cleef knows what he is now, but he does not feel sad about it.

He walked calmly, walking through the changing landscape. The plate movement that took years to complete is now being completed quickly in minutes or even more than ten minutes. The mountains collapsed passively, the streams were squeezed, the water flow poured, and only the dry riverbed was left.

The animals stood at a loss between the fallen and broken trees, sniffing the increasingly tense air. Each of them ignored the existence of Van Cleef, as if it did not exist.

However, part of the silver tower glittering between the soil and the stone reflected its current appearance, but only part of it.

A ten-meter-high behemoth could never be captured so easily, and heavy vehicles such as armored vehicles or tanks were just toys that could be lifted up at will in front of it. It was a three-story building that was moving, and just moving was enough to make people scream.

Van Cleef accepted them, and he accepted the side effects of all this. If the price of saving meant turning into a demon, he accepted it.

He walked through the beasts in the forest.

Many deer opened their brown or black eyes and looked at it. They could see its existence, but they could not understand it, so they had no fear and no urge to run away.

These animals probably just felt that the creature in front of them was not a lion, cheetah or any other predator, so they did not need to run away. This idea was stupid, but also smart.

A few seconds later, almost gray raindrops fell from the sky like bullets. There were no clouds in the sky, so their appearance was very intriguing and worth pondering.

They cast a gray veil over the world in front of Van Cleef. If you ignore the gradually changing landscape, this scene can be called beautiful and rare.

There are many worlds in the empire that cannot rain naturally. Long-term mining and construction have destroyed nature. People can only endure the bad environment. Air purifiers have become a must for everyone.

Van Cleef still walked neither fast nor slow, and hissing sound was heard on his body. That was the sound of raindrops being evaporated by high temperature. The constantly generated white steam made its shape extremely obvious in the rain. Fortunately, no one could see it in the wilderness.

Now, the beasts no longer exist. It seems that there are only two existences here, one is it, and the other is the silver tower that occupies the sky.

Silver lightning danced on its surface and then spread to the sky, like billions of twisting snakes. This scene is disturbing enough, but if you add the yellow animal eye hanging on the top of the spire, the uneasiness will turn into fear.

Van Cleef is very familiar with this animal eye.

At some point, humans will go completely crazy just by looking at it. What it represents is not something they can bear, no matter how strong their will is.

It is a kind of destruction that is equal to no one, a kind of.

Van Cleef began to look for words.

What is really crazy is not how terrible this thing is, whether it will eat people, but what it represents.

The collapse of hope.

Van Cleef summarized its essence with a refined sentence. Unfortunately, this word still cannot fully describe its essence to others so that they can understand it.

They must see it once with their own eyes to understand what this sentence means, but by that time, they don’t need to understand it anymore.

What this word represents will leave them at that moment, and what remains, what remains in that empty shell, will make more people lose faith.

Van Cleef grasped his sword, his only weapon, and used it to cut the eye hanging high on the top of the world.

The sword in its hand shouldn't have touched that eye, but that was just a theoretical situation. Van Cleef didn't want to act according to the theoretical situation at this time, so the sword struck solidly. In that yellow beast's eyes.

An unnameable viscous liquid fell from it, and blood mixed with a foul stench was sprinkled on Van Cleef. It retracted its sword and calmly let the flames ignite, blocking the possibility of any of these things landing on him.

At this moment, if anyone stares at the sky again, they will find that there is an insignificant gap in the center of the beast's pupils. Blood was seeping out of it, almost looking like a sinister, cancerous, twisted sun bleeding vicious pus.

There was a laugh in Van Cleef's ears - or a scream - it didn't matter, it made no difference.

"You self-righteous fool!" the thing roared at him. "You're like a dog chasing a bone! There's no end!"

"I may indeed be a hound, but you are not much of a bone." Van Cleef responded calmly.

His voice was low, but it shook the raindrops, causing them to shatter into pieces before they even hit the ground. The sword blade was raised again, the scarlet edge stained with a circle of white ashes.

The rain suddenly stopped, and before the next moment came, Van Cleef penetrated it deeply into the ground.

There was no sound, only the earth suddenly separated for some reason and rocks flying up due to the vibration. At this moment, the giant sword turned into a butcher's knife, firmly grasped by a dark and ferocious claw, pulling it to cut the earth.

The shining silver-white metal loomed under the sword's edge, letting out a silent wail. The ground suddenly shook, as if an earthquake was occurring, and huge shock waves raged crazily beneath the ground, spreading to the surface visible to the naked eye. above.

Van Cleef rotated his wrist, raised his head, looked into the eye, and saw with satisfaction that it was trembling.

"Do you think you can escape punishment by throwing yourself into prison?" the devil asked quietly.

Hellfire and smoke spread out from between the still-closed fangs, obscuring its face, but the two dots of scarlet in its eyes were still bright.

They penetrated the smoke firmly - or stubbornly - and firmly reflected this scene into the depths of the beast's eyes. The monster in the dark couldn't help but let out a scream, and couldn't help but think of being slaughtered again and again.

From the Stone Age to the Middle Ages, from disease-ridden villages and towns to bustling cities filled with skyscrapers, from unnamed narrow corners to the splendid era when heroes passed by like shooting stars.

Time and time again, it has died almost throughout human history. That giant sword had taken the trouble to cut open its chest again and again, tearing out everything inside, and then waited bloodthirsty for the next massacre.

The pain came to his mind, forcing it to tremble, and although it soon realized that it had made a mistake, it was too late.

"Fear follows you like a shadow." Something whispered behind it. "You have nowhere to escape."

It roared and turned, fleeing the darkness. The gleaming stars rushed into its eyes, and the emergency plan hand-woven by the Lord of Changes came into play, leading it to escape among the false stars.

There is no need to fight, this thing has already proven through countless time and countless deaths that it cannot be an enemy of Van Cleef.

Since the beginning of human history, it has been hunted by a demon named Van Cleef, and that oath has made it impossible to escape. Van Cleef will always find it, and then he will swing the butcher's knife without hesitation.

If one of the Four Evil Gods hadn't given him a helping hand, he would probably still be stuck in the time that had passed long ago, unable to extricate himself.

All the past events came to mind, causing him to growl angrily unbearably, regardless of how ridiculous this scene was in Van Cleef's eyes.

"This prison will have a new prisoner!" it said angrily across the stars. "You will be imprisoned here for countless years in my place, until the essence of your existence is obliterated!"

"And I will with great joy rip out the heart of Cassidorius Delkunus and I will bring that stupid mortal here so that you can see with your own eyes his body after I have ripped it out!"

The demon looked at it indifferently, then shook his head seemingly pitifully, and then raised the sword, completely clearing away the darkness here. The target it swore to hunt was no longer there, leaving only a flash of silver light, and the top floor of the silver tower was as empty as if it had been eaten by a swarm of insects.

Van Cleef looked down and saw countless compartments separated by metal. One after another, unspeakable and terrifying dreams were brewing and fermenting in these compartments.

Scientists who longed for recognition were trampled on until they died among the cheering crowds who were cheering for unknown reasons.

The young man who wanted to write a masterpiece that would be handed down for generations bit his finger open late at night, laughed and smeared the thick notebook with blood.

The artist who concentrated on carving lost his hands in the accident and could no longer swing a stone hammer for the rest of his life.

One broken dream after another, one heartbroken soul after another, just like this, they feed another ghost and monster without knowing anything.

Van Cleef turned to the other side and saw a group of erratic blue lights.

Cultists, Zealots, demons, monsters - countless greedy things stay in it, tasting the wisdom, pain and every bit of nightmare of those souls, and then use them to weave their own shelter, in each Night attracts more souls seeking knowledge.

These shelters may be small towns located in the countryside, seemingly peaceful, but hiding terrible secrets. Or they may be busy nests somewhere, where people go from factory to residence, with no life in their eyes

Countless identities, countless stories, the monsters who believe in Tzeentch are collecting seeds of power that can take them further, not realizing that the observer hanging over their heads has changed, and they are still immersed in it.

Van Cleef climbed up the hilt with his claws and rubbed it carefully. The terrible friction sound slowly rang out, from the town to the nest, from the wilderness to the glacier. This sound was not very obvious, but at this moment it rang throughout the blue light spots, like a death knell.

They looked up and saw a bony face in the sky or ceiling of their own world, with dense fangs, two pure red lights in the hideous eye sockets, and dark smoke rising from all around.

They screamed.

The next second, a huge sword slashed across and completely shattered those light spots.

One after another, the monsters emerged in a panic. Some had already prepared their escape spells before landing, while others were still confused and fell to the ground without any image.

However, there was one thing that was without exception: they all screamed the moment they saw Van Cleef.

The demon ignored these things and just swung his sword again. Thick smoke billowed, and scarlet meteors streaked across the silver curtain, shattering everything along the way.

The cultist's spine and his crystal eyeballs flew in the air, and were carried by the supernatural force and hit the wings of a giant bird, sinking into it and turning into meat paste, and then driven by this force again to become a flying knife that burst out at a high speed, crashing into the center of a silver living sphere, causing it to make a sound of glass breaking.

The hissing noises continued to sound, noisy like the end of the world, and the demons wailed, and it was difficult to distinguish their shapes.

Countless filthy souls were taken away from their original destiny at this moment, and turned from noble believers of Tzeentch into one of the countless sacrifices in the hands of the revenge demons to commemorate the dead souls.

A dark door rose from the ground immediately, violently crushing the original maze-like compartments, and brought all the suffering souls back to the wasteland. Then, raging flames burst out from it

The massacre began immediately, or burning at the stake, whatever you want to call it, this is just a trial.

Until they were all dead, Van Cleef turned his head to observe a person who had already appeared beside him.

"Long time no see, Sevitarion." The demon said, his tone was natural, his accent was simple, like an ancient person.

The person he greeted just looked up at him, expressionless, and clenched the chain saw halberd in his hand again and again. The awkward silence here lasted for several minutes before it ended, and the first sentence that Yago Sevitarion said was not a greeting.

"Who summoned you?" he asked sternly.

The demon nodded approvingly: "Hunter."

"Why?"

"You don't need to know." The demon put down the giant sword in his hand, lowered his head, and looked at his junior calmly. "This matter involves many people and is of great importance. If it is not necessary, there is no need to add more people who know about it."

Sevatar suppressed his anger and nodded slowly: "Even me?"

"That's right."

"Go to hell!" The first reserve roared. "If you really want to do this official attitude, you shouldn't have looked at me in the damn ten thousand years!"

Van Cleef shook his head, still calm: "It's just a matter of business, Sevatarion. The distinction between public and private is one of my few advantages, and I believe you inherited it."

He paused, as if he was not sure whether to say the next sentence and he did not choose to remain silent.

"I think you inherited some of the advantages of each of us." Van Cleef said so. "Although you may not realize it, this is the real deal."

Sevatar closed his eyes, almost trembling, and slowly let out a long breath.

"Stop." He said firmly. "Don't give me that, old man. Now tell me, how can I get you back?"

Van Cleef was not angry at his vulgar words. He knew Sevatar, and he knew that only half of those vulgar words were sincere, and the other half were just a roundabout tactic.

He wanted to create an opportunity, or a proposal. He was eager to use these words to make the first captain come back for a short moment, and then let him give orders in an old-fashioned tone.

First Reserve Yago Sevatarion, you have spoken wildly and behaved vulgarly, so you must be punished. In the name of the captain, I sentence you to run forty laps at full speed on the training ground of the nest to set an example. Any objections?

Van Cleef regretfully rejected this proposal.

"It's very simple." He said calmly, loosening his hand on the greatsword and pointing at the halberd in Sevatar's hand.

The terrifying weapon shrank briefly because of his behavior, and the innocent soul inside it even withered.

"What do you mean?" Sevatar stared at him and asked.

Van Cleef retracted his arm, pointed to his chest, and forcibly grabbed a piece of armor from the restraint of the chain. Under it was exposed a huge hole, no flesh, no heart, only a piece of pure nothingness and emptiness.

He clenched his fist hard, crushed the black armor, and pointed to the hole.

"Aim here, Severtalion. One shot or one surprise attack will end this summons. I deliberately restrained my power when I appeared, and I also arrived in this spire before it affected reality. There was no spiral. Seed, you don’t need to worry about dealing with it afterwards, just send me back to the subspace, it’ll be over.”

Once again, Sevatar took a deep breath and spat out a dirty line of ancient Terran slang.

If his curse just now had some other elements to it, then this time, it was completely sincere. Van Cleef tasted the slight difference, but did not point it out and just quietly changed the topic.

"However, before that, I still have something to remind you. The first is the forgery. You need to be careful about him. Our hands cannot be stained with the blood of innocent people. I am worried that something will use this to stir up the conspiracy. "

"What? You want me to take him to see the real Robert Guilliman?" Sevatar asked with a sneer.

"No problem," Van Cleef replied calmly. "I believe that Lord Macragge can make the best judgment on this matter. However, within his territory, there are more than one fake like this."

Savita was silent for a while, and the corners of her eyes twitched uncontrollably.

"Moreover, not every one of them is like this one, very similar to him." Van Cleef added. "In addition, nearby worlds have detected abnormal psychic signals here, and you will be able to escape from here soon."

"Stop talking." Saiveta whispered. "If someone else had said this to me at this time, I would have told him to go away."

"However, this is not some exaggerated alarmism, Savitarion——"

Sevita interrupted him impatiently: "-Yes, yes, I know. You old-fashioned old guy never knows how to joke."

He lifted up the halberd in his hand seemingly nonchalantly and waved it silently, as if he was looking for a feel.

Van Cleef knelt down on one knee, leaning on his sword and leaning his head on it. The white mane fell slowly, the burning flames were extinguished or restrained one by one, the chains tightened, and the armor creaked.

"Come on," said the devil.

Savitar gritted his teeth, and his spiritual energy gathered under him, turning into an upward step, lifting him up little by little.

Five seconds later, accompanied by the specious roar of a chain saw engine, a ray of light flashed away.

"Easy and neat." Van Cleef nodded slightly. "Remember, Yago, you've done a great job."

Black flames struck, engulfing its huge body in an instant. The silver tower trembled and began to collapse.

——

Although there was no warning, when the moment of Van Cleef's death came, Kalil still felt a little bit.

After realizing it, he turned his head and looked at the porthole, looking at one of the twinkling stars, his eyes so far away that he seemed to be able to see through all the darkness.

Behind him, a dozen Ultramarines and their scribes were interrogating a tall skeleton alien whose living metal face had already wrinkled up in depression.

Not far away from him, a group of Iron Warriors wearing twisted armor were being inspected by Mechanic Priests and Technical Sergeants. And if you look further afield, you will find that the hangar on the flank of the Macragge's Glory is already crowded with people.

From the Ultramarines, Death Guard, Iron Warriors to Salamanders, they are almost all-encompassing. They basically have only one thing in common, that is, they are full of murderous intent and wear ancient armor.

"Mr. Khalil?" A female voice came from behind Khalil, interrupting his thinking.

"Lady Califone."

Khalil called out her name without looking back, and then slowly turned his head and saw a thin face with firm eyes.

The female tyrant from Olympia said curiously: "What are you looking at? I realize that you have been standing here in trance for a long time."

"Nothing. Just thinking about something." Khalil said. "Also, could you please not use the honorific? I would be very grateful for that."

"I insist," said the female tyrant. "Also, this may be a little abrupt, but I want to know if Abo got his weird aversion to honorifics from you?"

Khalil laughed dumbly, then calmed down his expression and shook his head seriously: "That's absolutely not the case, ma'am."

"Yes." Califon nodded thoughtfully, then bowed and left. Judging from the route she chose, she was probably going to communicate with the Iron Warriors.

This is good, it means she accepts her current situation. Many people - even the Ultramarines among them - found it inconceivable that Robert Guilliman used the term 'ten thousand years'.

Khalil understood them; after all, it took him a while to come to terms with it himself.

but.

Khalil frowned and walked towards a Custodian. The latter also stayed in front of a porthole, holding the sword at his waist with one hand and remaining silent.

"I wonder, La Endymion—" he began bluntly. "——What on earth did he see that would lead him to assign us such a military force?"

The son of the water thief turned his head, with an unspeakable emotion brewing on his dark face. After a long time, he spoke.