40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 629 12. The Past of Sovet (IV, One of Two Courts)

The door was opened.

It is not easy for me to realize this now. I was injured, so my reaction became a little slow.

But don't get me wrong, the Necrons ship did not hit us, otherwise I would not just be dizzy and have three broken ribs, I would have directly turned into a piece of space junk. Cold, stiff, and then floating in the vacuum.

My injuries came from my mistress.

She mistakenly thought that I pushed her down because I could no longer resist those costs, those whispers. She thought I let my guard down, sank my mind, and became one of the millions of fallen people.

At that moment, she was so sad that she could hardly breathe. I could sense it because her eyes had never been on guard against me, even in that situation.

Then, she planned to shoot my head.

I struggled, resisted, and tried to explain - at the same time, I had to convince myself that even if she was so beautiful in her sadness, I had to take time to appreciate it. Now was not the time to appreciate her rare humanity.

I convinced myself and then subdued her. It took her a while to realize the truth, and the sadness in her eyes disappeared immediately.

I have to tell you that I only broke one rib at first.

I looked at the door, and at the junction of darkness and light stood a man wearing a neat officer's uniform, with a military cap that was not tilted, which was so straight that it was frightening, and a pair of ice-blue eyes staring at me.

This gaze made me feel familiar, so I immediately realized his true identity. The door slowly closed, and the man began to walk towards us, and finally stopped opposite the iron table.

The lights came on, which were extremely dazzling. He put down the documents in his hand as if he didn't see anything, pulled out a chair and sat down, and every step contained the coldness and ruthlessness of a robot.

This made me a little unhappy - hey, I'm not the kind of person who loses his mind when I'm unhappy, please remember this, okay? But I am injured now, and it is difficult for humans to remain rational when they are injured.

So I spoke before the hostess could speak.

"Excuse me, who are you?" I deliberately asked in a nonchalant tone.

The man glanced at me, then unbuttoned the first button of his uniform and pulled out a pendant from his clothes. The logo of the Tribunal shone brightly. I cursed my stupidity and then kept the proper silence.

The man nodded to me. He didn't laugh, but I always felt that he was laughing at me. This may be my illusion. I hope it is an illusion. I don't like being laughed at.

He spoke slowly, and his voice was as gloomy as his face.

"Shefa." He spit out the name, then paused for a few seconds and spit out an emotionless official speech. "The trial is about to begin. Do you have any objections?"

I remained silent and shook my head.

My hostess put her hands on the table. There was some metal on the wide cuff of her left hand that collided with the table for a moment, but Shefa didn't even look at it, still staring at her face intently.

This means he is a focused and difficult person. To be honest, all inquisitors are like this, but this is the first time I am bothered by this quality of theirs - after all, this time, I am the one being judged.

"No." said the hostess. "Ask the questions, Inquisitor."

Shefa nodded and spread out the documents in his hand in front of us, and the thick papers rustled. I looked down and found that they were a special light yellow and the surface was very rough.

This means they are from Qiatar, a world far away in the Storm Star Region, where people make a living by making paper, and the whole world is like this.

The paper produced in Qiatar is very popular in the empire. One is tough, the second is water-resistant, and the third is because they are not expensive. As for the thick and hard characteristics that can even be used as weapons in some cases, this feature is actually not a disadvantage.

Why do I care so much about this insignificant little thing?

The reason is simple, because I have to grab every straw that may be a life-saving straw, okay? Otherwise, who the hell would care about what type of paper he uses.

You see, after that lunatic Shroud-class cruiser fired its reheat guns at us, it moved away and hit another ship anchored nearby.

That ship was the Rational Edge, an Opalon-class battleship belonging to the Dark Angels. The Dark Angels' Primarch, Lion El'Jonson, was aboard it at the time of the incident.

He's fine, and so is the Rational Edge, but we are, because the Lion has made it clear that he wants to hold us accountable for what happened to Corporal Hayd. He's going to board that ship, and before he comes back, he wants us to tell the truth to this Shefa in front of us.

Do you understand now? The Lion - Lion El'Jonson! This is no small matter.

"First question," Shefa began. "Name."

Was he serious? I thought incredulously.

Well, he might be serious. I exhaled.

The Inquisition is a large and loose organization, and the connections between Inquisitors are not as tight as most people think. In most cases, they only operate within their respective jurisdictions, and then find a peaceful time to return to the headquarters to report to the seal holder.

The Milky Way is vast and full of darkness, but it's not so dangerous that you have to live with your head in your belt every day. Cultists also need to eat, and they also need to earn money to buy ritual tools.

Many times, just by paying attention to the local black markets, you can catch these bastards and execute them before they really achieve anything.

Of course, this is just the normal way my mistress and I work. As for other people, like this Xie Fa, he probably deals with internal affairs.

Or, to put it another way, to people.

If my mistress and I are two guns specializing in killing cultists and demons, then this man is a butcher knife versed in human physiology.

His stance, appearance and even every detail of his movements are carefully designed in order to show a unique and inhuman feeling.

Of course, it's also possible that he was born this way, who knows for sure?

He raised his hand and pointed at me: "Starting with you, Mr. Renthal Sable. Name?"

I smiled and replied very politely: "Rental Sable."

"What about you, ma'am?"

"Serrano van der Lev," my hostess replied, expressionless. "Can we get down to business quickly?"

Shefa lowered his head, glanced at the document in his hand, and said calmly: "We have been getting to the point for three minutes, Ms. Dellev."

"As early as the moment I opened the door and walked in, the four Dark Angel think tanks outside the room had already begun to review the memories of you and Deputy You."

"My inquiry is just a cover-up, and its purpose is only to induce you to reveal your name - the name is the shortest spell, you two."

Oh shit.

I hope he's joking, but alas, I know he's not. The next second he finished speaking, I started getting a nosebleed, very thick and shiny. At the same time, the pain hit him instantly.

I can't even describe how much it hurt, which is incredible because I've had a lot of injuries in my life that a normal person wouldn't be able to endure, some very serious.

For example, that time in the Runoff Desert, fifteen of us were chased by the local lords for half a month, and finally we were caught. They planned to operate on me, execute me with ancient punishments, and dedicate my blood and life to theirs. god.

This punishment sounds very simple, nails, you know? They had some enchanted bone nails there, long, pointed, thin, made from the bones of twin babies.

I don't know how the hell they do it, but I gotta tell you, it definitely doesn't feel good when four nails are driven into your brain through your eyes and ears at the same time.

And I have to say, even four more nails will not compare to the pain I feel now.

I rolled my neck as hard as I could in my chair and looked at my mistress. Her eyes were bleeding, just as sticky as mine but different, her blood almost boiling as it snaked down and hissed against the skin.

I could even see puffs of white smoke rising. I tried calling her name to calm her down but I couldn't make any sound at all.

And Shefa was still talking.

"Please stay calm. The pain is only temporary and will pass soon. I am sincerely sorry for what happened to you two, but this trial is no longer an internal matter of the Tribunal. Can you two understand?"

I rolled my eyes stiffly and looked at him.

"Mr. Sable."

He actually nodded at me, this inhuman bastard with ice blue eyes. Damn it, when I get out of trouble, I will beat you until you can't stand up straight.

"Unfortunately, I don't think you can do this," the inhuman bastard said. "Also, get ready, I'm going to go ahead and start asking questions."

Do you have any questions?

"Yes."

I want to see your mother.

"My mother is buried in Capello Cemetery, 1-97-A-772, you can use this number to find her. If you do go, please bring me flowers, I haven't been in a long time She did."

Ask me fucking questions!

"Are you loyal to the Emperor, Mr. Sable?"

What the hell kind of problem is this? I thought angrily - I'm not sure if my angry emotions were conveyed to him by those Dark Angel think tanks, because I still have some words that I haven't said yet, and those words can't be brought to the table.

But what makes me angry is not the torture he inflicted on us, or the contempt he personally displayed. I understand what he did, and if it were me, I would be the same as him.

The reason for my anger is very simple: this bastard doubts me, he thinks I'm a traitor.

And I am absolutely loyal to the Emperor. damn it.

Every day I live in this galaxy, my loyalty to him grows stronger. The more darkness I see, the more I long for His light.

Admittedly, some people who know me well may say that I have always scorned what the Ecclesiarchy says, and I will not deny it. I just don't believe what they say, that the Emperor will one day save us all.

He is already doing this, how else would we be alive?

But he is not a god, at least not the omnipotent god described in the state religion, so there is only so much he can do. He has given us all he can give us, and the rest can only be done by ourselves.

Human beings must save themselves, I have always believed this. And I am absolutely loyal to the Emperor. It is only because of him that we are alive today.

"Your ideas will make the priests of the state church label you a heretic, Mr. Sable." I heard Shefa say this, and to be honest, I couldn't see his face clearly.

In my eyes, he was now just a blurry block of color, his face was blue, glacier blue, and there was a touch of gold on his head, which was where the Sky Eagle was.

This made his words a little funny, and I had an inappropriate urge to laugh.

Shefa seemed a little surprised, so he raised his hand - in my eyes, it was just the color block changing.

The pain disappeared, and I couldn't help laughing out loud, unable to restrain my laughter for what I would encounter later. My vision also returned lightly, and Shefa was still sitting opposite me, nodding at me.

I ignored him, just turned my head to look at my mistress, and found that she had also gotten rid of the pain and was no longer suffering.

The blood was winding, extending to her chin, and also spreading in the five scars on her face, crisscrossing, making her look as if she was wearing a mask made of blood.

She turned her head and looked at me, her eyes full of seriousness.

I understood that she was not going to leave here.

I held her hand and prepared to wait for Shefa's final judgment. This bastard did a good job. He is an outstanding inquisitor. In just ten minutes, he has dug out everything in our heads.

Most people would not allow the Astartes think tank to dig into the memories of the inquisitor. Obviously, he is not bound by rules.

I wish him to be more loyal to the Emperor in the future.

If I really have to die, I hope the Emperor will judge my soul. Whatever he does, use the scales or feel it with his hands, I believe he will make a fair judgment.

I am loyal. So is my mistress. I closed my eyes and waited.

But the Emperor did not come.

I heard a voice give an order: "Open your eyes."

I did as he said. The majesty contained in this voice made it difficult for people not to obey any order he gave - or rather, it was difficult for people not to take his words as orders.

I felt as if I was electrocuted, and I felt a tremor deep in my bones. Fear? Perhaps, but more of an emotion should be excitement, the excitement of seeing a gene primarch with my own eyes.

He stood opposite us, alive, not a statue, a painting or a pale description in words. He was breathing, wearing armor, holding a spear in his hand, and powerful energy emanated from it, making my skin tight.

My mind was blank, and I didn't even know how to speak.

Lion El'Jonson, the great lion.

He stood opposite and looked at us.

What was he going to do? Stab us to death with a spear, or smash us to pieces with a gun? I imagined tremblingly, but the lion didn't do it. He just stepped to the left and stepped aside. An old man with a gray beard stood weakly behind him.

In an instant, I understood.

The trial continues.