40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 63 63. Failure

Anticlimactic.

It's the only word Khalil would use to describe his actions tonight. He even wanted to add a word to denounce his carelessness.

fail.

It was a complete failure.

He sighed.

"So, you guessed this would happen all along?"

Neos nodded calmly at his question.

"They don't give up, never. Just like a wolf that bites its prey, it will never let go of its fang-filled mouth unless it is completely killed."

"After all, they can fail an infinite number of times, but they only have to succeed once."

"You know them well," Khalil said thoughtfully. He was not asking, but stating a conclusion.

He closed his eyes and psychically uttered a name that should not be spoken. Neos frowned, raised his right hand, and there was a subtle golden light in the air.

After a long time, he said slowly: "Even if it is psychic communication, it is best not to mention their names, not any of them."

"Just four false gods." Khalil sneered. "They're scared to death of you, Neos."

"No, they are not afraid of me, but they are afraid of the fire I stole."

The man wearing a laurel wreath sighed tiredly, reached out and took a wooden cup from the table nearby. Like everything that appeared on the Emperor's Dream, this quaint cup bore the double-headed eagle logo on its surface.

He picked it up, opened the lid, and drank it in one gulp. The smell of some kind of medicinal liquid filled the air, and Khalil frowned.

"Are you injured?" he asked briefly.

"It's not a big problem."

Neos lowered his arm, held the cup in his hand, rubbed its surface with his fingers, and blinked slowly.

"It has paid much more than me. It knows that this is its last chance. If it doesn't succeed this time, it will never succeed."

He looked at Khalil and uttered a cold sentence.

"Get you."

"Interesting statement." Khalil narrowed his eyes, not feeling any discomfort at this slightly offensive comment.

He sensed some hidden truth behind Neos's words - Nios did not explain it directly, but he hid the truth behind his words.

From another perspective, he really never hides anything.

"The knife you gave Conrad"

Nios spoke again, his tone was calm, but his expression was a little solemn. "When you forged it, did you realize what it actually was?"

"Of course I know what it is."

Khalil laughed and said very calmly: "It's just a part of my essence that I no longer need. It doesn't hurt to leave it to him."

"Fear is also very useful sometimes."

"I can create fear myself."

"There is a big difference between man-made and natural, instinctive fears."

"Then he needs it even more." Khalil smiled slightly. "Isn't it?"

"Maybe." Neos said noncommittally.

"So."

Khalil sighed, leaned back in his chair, rubbed his brows tiredly, and mentioned another thing.

"I need to apologize to your bodyguard."

"He is still receiving treatment. When he recovers, you can go to him on your own. But I don't think he will accept it."

Neos pursed his lips, a kind of sadness resurfaced.

"He's broken."

whispered the laurel-crowned man. "It was created by my own hands and carefully designed by me. When I realized this, it was already too late. He became my shadow. He would not think about, refuse or question my words."

"And you don't like that," Khalil said. "Right?"

"I don't like it, but I need it." Neos smiled sadly. "The Emperor needs it."

Khalil looked at him noncommittally, with no sympathy in his dark eyes - he would not sympathize with a person who was ready to wake up. If anything, he was just a little sad.

"Conquest is a brutal process, Khalil. It will bring about countless wars, and it will ignite a fire very different from the small fire of hope you kindled in Nostramon."

"This kind of flame will burn countless people to death and turn them into scorched corpses in pain. And those who survive will also become distorted."

"This is the case with Waldo. He has experienced too many wars, enough to make him throw away everything except his loyalty to me. I understand their thoughts, they will regard this as an honor, but I don't want it. so."

He lowered his shoulders and muttered again. "I don't want this."

"But you need to."

"Yes, I need it." Nios replied softly.

Their conversation came to an end.

Khalil tilted his head back so he could relax back in his seat.

The scene of killing passed by quickly, he chose his punishment expressionlessly, the prayer in the darkness, his right hand holding the gun, the children tied by iron chains.

His hands began to shake.

"A necessary evil," he said lowly. "A necessary sacrifice, right?"

"Yes."

Khalil smiled.

"Did your accomplishments in persuading others come from persuading yourself?"

Nios just shook his head. "I rarely convince myself, I just let myself see the right path."

right way

Khalil closed his eyes and stopped talking, as if falling into a deep sleep.

——

Frankly speaking, Fulgrim's nerves have been very tense tonight.

From the great purge of Khalil Lohars, to the deployment of the Custodes, and the sudden appearance of an extra lock in their father's study.

All these things made the Chemos people feel unusually tired.

Originally, with his energy, he could work at high intensity for several days and nights without needing any rest, but now, he just wanted to lie on the sofa and remain motionless.

Of course, it was the sofa in Ferrus Manus's room - to be precise, the sofa that Fulgrim had forcibly placed in his room despite Ferrus's protests.

The Iron Hand would not allow such luxury and comfort into his room.

"There are still ten days." Ferrus Manus said abruptly at the workbench.

There were many drawings placed in front of him, some were filled, and some were still blank. Regular lines rest steadily on it, and detailed annotations are densely covered in the lower left corner of the drawing. It is said to be a sketch, but the degree of completion is astonishingly high.

"What ten days? It's nine days, Ferus." Fulgrim replied dully.

He covered his face with a soft velvet pillow, which was why his voice sounded so muffled.

"It will be nine days in another hour." Ferrus Manus replied solemnly.

It's not that he was following Rogal Dorn, or that he simply wanted to grasp the details. The reason why he talks to his brother in such a serious tone is just because he is thinking now.

"It will be nine days in another hour. When did you value time so much, Ferus?"

"I don't value time, I just want to illustrate the difference."

"Difference? One hour difference, is there a big difference?"

"Sometimes, yes." Ferus said noncommittally, putting his hands on his knees, still maintaining an upright sitting posture. He frowned more and more as he looked at the spread out sketches.

Fulgrim was silent for a moment and took off the velvet pillow from his face.

"You don't want to use special circumstances during the war to refute me, do you?" the Chemos asked incredulously.

".Before."

Fulgrim laughed—angrily. "When have I delayed the promised time on the battlefield?!"

"you have not."

"Then why did you use this as an example?!"

"Because it is." Ferus turned his head. "Is not it?"

"There are a lot of junior officers who delay fighter planes because they don't pay attention to time. Although the overall number is not outstanding, every time they make a mistake, they will cause unnecessary casualties, and sometimes even change a local battle that is about to be won. become a failure.”

"The example you gave is too extreme." Fulgrim shook his head. "There are also many outstanding officers. I can name a hundred names right now."

"So."

Ferus turned around, looked at his brother with his hands folded, and nodded expressionlessly. "Speak, I will listen and I will count."

Fulgrim looked at him blankly and said nothing for a while.

Half a minute later, he took a deep breath and nodded: "You are serious, aren't you?"

"certainly."

"Okay, Nascimento Furlong, Bay—"

"-Bang bang bang."

Ferrus Manus turned his head, stood up, and opened the door. Fulgrim sat on the sofa seriously and began to call out names one after another. He knew that Ferus would take note of it, but he didn't expect that he would be interrupted.

". Fulgrim? Ferrus? Good evening."

A voice sounded outside the open door.

The Chemos man quickly stood up and finally breathed a sigh of relief: "Good evening, Conrad, you came back very quickly."

He couldn't help but smile, waved to his brother, and walked over in a friendly manner. Ferus silently turned sideways and let Conrad Curze in. The latter thanked him politely before closing the door.

"Are you okay?" Fulgrim asked concerned.

".fine."

"Then something is wrong." Ferus said calmly. "Also, Fulgrim, you can go on to give your names. There are still ninety-six to go."

".Are you OK?!"

"What can happen to me?" Ferus replied inexplicably.

"I'm really fine. Thank you for letting Akudona drive me down. He's a good man."

"Um"

Fulgrim raised his eyebrows and his expression became a little strange. "This is the first time I've heard someone praise him like this. However, I still want to thank you on his behalf, Conrad. Come over here and tell us, what's going on next?"

"Nothing special."

Conrad Coates shook his head and revealed the matter lightly. His concealment was obvious. But Fulgrim and Ferrus didn't want to ask what they had already seen from their brother's reaction.

They were willing to respect him.