40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 636 19. Judgment (1, Zabriel, 7k)

Shefa raised his head from behind his desk and glanced at Rental Sable, who knew the meaning of his gaze, but still did not stop what he was doing.

Several documents were turned over in his hands, which was extremely disturbing. He had been doing this for several minutes, and his purpose was obvious, but Shefa didn't want to let him achieve it so easily.

So he lowered his head again and continued to deal with the work at hand - he was looking through many lists. He wanted to find 3,000 suitable people from the criminal lists jointly given by the Ministry of Military Affairs and the Ministry of Justice, and then put them into the list of criminals. They take them into a new place.

A punishment legion called the Last Chancers.

Shefa didn't really like the name, but it was fitting.

At this time, in the second drawer on the lower left side of his desk, there was a thick stack of pardon orders waiting.

They have legal effect. As long as Shefa signs and seals them, those who may receive the pardon will no longer be guilty and they will be free, no matter what serious crimes they have committed.

This is the last chance.

Shefa was certain that some of the men he was about to select would fight to the death for him until they received a pardon.

But other people may not do this. They know that they have already sinned beyond pardon. Unless the Emperor really appears, these people will not have any idea about the pardon order, even if it has a seal representing the Emperor to prove that he I agree with this matter.

Shefa's right index finger sliding the data pad suddenly paused.

Emperor

He narrowed his eyes, raised his head again, and looked at Rental Sable. The inquisitor's guard, who had regained his freedom, was holding the document and looking at him. There was a look on his rough face that was very familiar to Xie Fa.

Everyone who interacts with him seems to have the same expression at some point, and the reasons are really thought-provoking. Most people might be disturbed by this, but not Shefa. He was even satisfied.

"Are you okay, Sable?" Shefa asked deliberately.

"Yes," said Sable gruffly. "I come on behalf of my mistress, who asked me to ask you when we can leave."

"at any time."

"at any time?"

"Yes, you can leave at any time, as long as I agree."

Rental Sable took a deep breath, then put down the papers, clenched his fists, and placed them on the table.

Xie Fa lowered his head and glanced at them, completely indifferent to the veins on the back of his hands. In fact, he even kind of wanted to smile

He liked being around people like Sable, they were really simple and easy to understand to him.

"But this is the Lion's ship." Sable responded in a suppressed tone.

"Yes, this is the Lion's ship, but he has left the matter entirely in my hands, and you are a man of talent, Mr. Sable. I have a mission at hand that will greatly require someone like you."

"I am Serrano van der Lev's bodyguard."

"It's common for inquisitors to lend each other's guards to each other. Mr. Sable, don't you know about this?"

Sable took another deep breath: "How long will I have to work for you?"

"Ten years," Shefa said thoughtfully and added. "With any luck - of course, your mistress will come along and provide us with some small assistance."

"As far as I know, she has a good relationship with several Rogue Traders who have been operating in the Storm Star Territory all year round. I hope to use these relationships."

Sable sneered: "I don't think they would like someone like you."

Shefa nodded, acknowledging his statement. At the same time, a low hum came from the data pad in his hand.

Sable glanced at it quickly, but Shefa laid the data pad flat on the table nonchalantly, letting the flashing article belonging to the Lion catch his eye.

He spoke slowly: "Yes, they will indeed not like a judge like me, but they will definitely be very happy to have a good relationship with a powerful colonel assigned by the Ministry of Military Affairs."

"Moreover, your mistress can even take this opportunity to take her friendship with them one step further, so why not?"

As soon as he finished speaking, he stood up, straightened his military uniform, picked up his military cap, put it on, and left his office in stride.

He walked with his head held high and his eyes looking forward, which contained a calming and convincing power. But this is actually just a superficial appearance, just a disguise he deliberately showed.

A relatively young Colonel of the Ministry of Military Affairs should have this kind of gait, and he needed to make people believe it - after all, not many people knew his other identity.

The fewer people who know the truth, the better. Although the confidentiality regulations are redundant in most cases, their necessity has been proven by the lives of generations of inquisitors.

He strode into a gathering hall used by the servants of the Dark Angels Chapter. It was always crowded, and there was never a shortage of things to do on a battleship, not to mention that this was a battleship belonging to the Astartes.

The daily routine of the mortal servants is highly consistent with the people they serve. According to Shefa's observation, the training ground used by the servants on the Blade of Reason is right next to the Dark Angels' ground.

The young and middle-aged among them have to undergo rigorous training every day, and then they each perform their duties and do their own things. Maintain weapons and armor, deliver messages, deliver necessary incense to meditating knights, or deliver food and drinks at dinner parties.

They have lived with the Dark Angels for generations and are proud of it. If they gain honor during war, they can even put their names together with the Dark Angels and let them wave in the wind together on the flag.

Looking at the entire empire, such a relationship is rare. Almost every war group needs mortal servants, but there are not many who can do this.

And Shefa knew the reason behind it - the Lion.

Without his consent, the atmosphere within the Dark Angels would not have changed to this point.

But this also aroused his curiosity. Although the Inquisition did not preserve the battle records of the Dark Angels during the Legion period, judging from some rare cooperative battles, the style of the Lions 10,000 years ago was quite fierce.

What made him what he is today?

Questions were born, and Shefa's memories soon emerged. The lion treated him very politely, and even when he fell into rage, he still maintained his sanity.

Shefa did not think this was because of his identity, so his thirst for knowledge became even stronger.

With this thought in mind, he boarded an elevator that went straight to the top of the Blade of Reason.

After pressing the button, a strong sense of weightlessness immediately began to tear Shefa's body apart. He had to reach out and hold on to the armrests reserved for mortals to stabilize his body, while silently holding his breath.

Ten seconds later, accompanied by a gust of cold wind, the elevator door suddenly slid open, and a long corridor appeared in front of Shefa. Two Dark Angels wearing Terminator armor stood at the exit of the elevator, one on the left and one on the right, staring at him wordlessly.

Xie Fa saluted them and then walked in.

It has been more than a year since he boarded the Blade of Reason, but even including this time, he has only been here three times.

The Lion does not often summon him here. More often, they meet at the door of the interrogation room. Although he is not here to serve the Lion, since he has boarded the Blade of Reason, he has to do this. There’s nothing wrong with it

Xie Fa suddenly stopped, and the badge he placed on his chest was trembling coldly. He instinctively put his right hand up to his waist, and then realized that he was not wearing any weapon.

This was an embarrassing situation, but Shefa still forced himself to calm down and became acutely aware of one thing - he actually didn't know what the trembling badge meant.

So he turned and stared.

Sure enough, he saw a familiar person.

Standing in the darkness, Khalil smiled at him.

"Very sharp, Colonel Shefa," he praised. "I thought you would find me later."

".It's what the badge is for, my lord."

Khalil stepped out of the darkness, smiling and shaking his head. Shefa frowned in confusion, but did not ask for an explanation. He just walked into the door with Khalil.

The world behind the door is probably very different from what most people imagine as a primarch's private room. The Lion does not place many things related to official business here. In fact, even daily life things are not too big. There was only one bed that fit his size and was silently thrown in the corner.

The rest of the place was filled with weapons. Some are hung on the wall, some are placed on weapon racks, and are carefully classified.

The sword stayed together, silently waiting for the day when it would be unsheathed. Knives crossed each other with murderous intent, silently calling for blood. Various types of firearms that have been maintained are placed inside transparent display cabinets, waiting to be taken.

There were many varieties of them, and each one fit the primarch's hand. Xie Fa was dazzled by what he saw, and had to secretly tell himself to stay calm - although he was not a real soldier, who could keep a normal mind towards so many magical weapons?

At least he couldn't, so he silently cast his gaze to the center of the room.

A medium-sized training ground has been set aside there, and the Lion is fighting two fighter servants with his bare hands.

They are highly modified, and every inch of their body surface is covered with hard alloy plates. Of course, this is nothing in the face of the power of a Primarch, but the Lion obviously has high requirements for itself.

The servitors are also equipped with genuine weapons, and their joints have been modified. The most important point is that each of them holds two power swords, and the special joint structure allows them to activate in a way that exceeds the limits of human swordsmanship. attack.

Xie Fa could not help but sweat for the lion, but the latter told him with practical actions that his worries were meaningless, but Xie Fa could not capture the details at all.

All he knew was that the lion seemed to have punched twice, and then the two fighter servants fell to the ground with sparks coming out. It was not until the force fields on their power swords dissipated that the heavy echoes of the Primarch's attack reached Shefa's ears.

Then, the voice of the lion.

"Shefa, I have something I want you to help me with."

Xie Fa naturally had no reason to refuse. However, only half an hour later, he began to regret his rash decision. But at that time, it was no longer up to him to refuse.

He could only sit on a cold iron chair and stare at the Astartes in front of him, his name was Zabriel.

A Terran Dark Angel, a veteran from ten thousand years ago.

——

When the mortal in black and red uniform sat in front of me, I admit that I was a little confused. In my perception, I was helping a group of survivors resist the rebels.

At that time, the rebellion that broke out in the Lower Nest had been over for more than four days, and the local rulers were extremely cold-blooded and ruthless. He dispatched troops, but did not let those soldiers enter the Lower Nest to help the civilians who were being massacred.

I knew what he wanted to do. I had seen the fat-headed and big-eared idiot in the portrait. His orders were as easy to understand as his greasy face - he just wanted to protect himself, guard the road between the Lower Nest and the Upper Nest, and let the rebels fend for themselves.

I saw with my own eyes that he sent his own soldiers to guard every road and every bridge, and did not allow any refugees to enter.

These arrogant soldiers even dared to shoot those officers who tried to help the refugees, and anyone who dared to resist them was ruthlessly suppressed. It was hard not to feel angry, so I chose to use my own power to do something.

But now?

The smell of mortal blood faded away, and the group of people who had fought alongside me disappeared. The half-grown boy who I jokingly named the guard officer and the crudely made flag in his hand also disappeared. He should have stayed behind me.

I saw rare courage in him. I admit that I like him. If I were still in the legion, he would become my servant. But he disappeared, and the enemy disappeared.

The group of crazy rebels should have shot at me. Their helmets and armor were full of slanderous words about the Emperor, and their expressions were extremely crazy.

I even thought of a tactic. I would cross the burning pits and collapsed building materials to reach the simple trenches they dug temporarily, tear the machine gunners apart with my tactical short knife, and then take the stun grenades from their corpses to create greater chaos.

I am alone, so I must let chaos be my helper.

But

Damn, what is going on?

"Lord Zabril?" The mortal called out my name without respect and gave me a false honorific.

"Please look at me, okay?"

I did as he said, looking into his eyes, and prepared to attack. Regardless of whether all this is true or false, the person who dared to put me in this situation must be punished.

I swore to protect the people there from the war. Although this cannot make up for what I have done, nor can it make me feel better, it can at least prove that I am still a knight.

But my oath was broken.

It was not out of my will, but it was indeed broken.

"Thank you for your cooperation, sir."

The mortal nodded to me, and it was only at this time that I noticed that there was a sky eagle on the hat he was wearing, shining with gold.

I immediately became nervous. Don't get me wrong, I still follow the Emperor. If he sends me his will and asks me to sacrifice for him, I will give my blood without hesitation.

But I have been on the run for too long. I have spent nearly four hundred years hiding in the material world. I can no longer stand tall under the Sky Eagle like I did before.

What I once believed in and fought for has now become my shackles, even a thorn in my eyes.

I think this is a kind of sadness. Because I was hurt by the Sky Eagle, for real.

The mortal probably noticed this, but he didn't say it clearly. I saw a thoughtful look in his annoying blue eyes, followed by another hypocritical smile.

"You can call me Shefa, sir."

"What is Shefa?" I asked deliberately.

He kept smiling and didn't answer my question. Instead, he looked at the information in his hand and threw more questions at me.

"You are of Terran descent, right? Born in the Starkholm Hive?"

I was shocked. Although I concealed my reaction well, shock was shock - how did he know?

This information should be top secret, even my brothers should not know these things, but this mortal who called himself Shefa easily said these two things in a plain tone.

Admittedly, this may not matter, but if he knows this, then what about other things?

Sure enough, I heard him reveal more secrets.

"You served in the Third Company, a knight of the Second Squad of the Third Company of the Fifteenth Regiment, a deacon of the Three Keys, and one of the members of the Deathwing when it was first founded. What a luxurious resume."

Listening to this mortal in a dry tone telling these things that he shouldn't know at all hurt me again, and this time it hurt even more.

Part of it was because of his tone, but more of it was a kind of indignation: Who on earth? Who revealed these secrets to an irrelevant person who shouldn't know them?

And since he could know these things from that document, then how many people knew these secrets during the process of circulating this document?

I couldn't believe that I was actually afraid.

"Anyway, sir—" the disgusting Shefa spoke again. "—we must get down to business."

Main topic? What's the topic? what you up to? I wanted to ask a question, but the surrounding environment came into my eyes. This dark, iron-gray small room made me immediately realize what the real topic in his mouth meant.

Then I became furious like never before.

"You want to interrogate me?!"

I growled and lunged at him.

In less than a third of a second, I could crush his neck, but I won't do it. I want to control him and get some things out of him that I want to know, like where am I now and how did they bring me here?

In my imagination, my hands were now around the so-called Shefa's neck. But, in the real world, I'm still where I am.

Yes, I got myself under control. It was difficult, but I still did it.

Without enough self-control, I would not have been able to escape for so long. The strange thing is that when I realized that my self-control had improved again, a face that I really didn’t want to see appeared in front of me.

That was the face of my primarch, Leon El'Jonson.

Why do I think of him at this time? I don't have an answer.

"I wouldn't call it that, but since you think so, let's call it an interrogation - would you?"

His words made the corners of my eyes twitch.

damned. I muttered silently and began to curse him, countless curses stuck in my throat echoing up and down. The words slipped from the shallow part of the throat like an adventurer who failed on a mountain climb and fell into the abyss.

I had to force myself to calm down again, and this time, I still succeeded.

I looked at him, raised my chin, and said calmly: "Whatever you want."

"Okay, Lord Zabriel. Then, here is the first question: Are you still loyal to the Empire?"

"Which empire?" I asked coldly.

I wasn't trying to provoke him, I really wanted to know which empire he was asking about. The changes in the world since Caliban's exile have been tearing my heart apart.

I know about the 'Great Heresy'. I have also stood in an excited crowd and listened to the priests' sermons, listening to them condemn Horus Luperkar, Lorgar Aurelion and Alpharius. These three names are closely related to the traitors. and closely connected together.

At first, I couldn't believe it - Horus Luperkar started the Heresy? He wanted to kill the Emperor? Terra on top! How could there be such a ridiculous thing in this world?

But the more worlds I see, the more believable this becomes. One or two worlds might still be construed as being deceived, but everywhere I went their names were spat upon.

So I have to believe that after Caliban's war ended, another rebellion was born.

Moreover, it is much larger and has a much greater impact.

Three hundred and ninety-two years of running away allowed me to confirm this with my own eyes. People have become ignorant and fanatical. Almost every world is stuck in its ways, but war is never far away. The great rebellion was not the end, but the beginning of another nightmare.

Traitors and aliens. These things that we personally drove away during the Great Crusade are now back, and a new enemy has been added - Chaos.

Just thinking of the word makes me shiver. The truth of the Warp is unbearable. The changes in the world are unbearable. The Empire is still called the Empire, but it is no longer the Empire I know.

It has been forever changed.

"The Empire of Man."

The stupid and arrogant mortal who thought he could interrogate me replied like this, his tone still unconcerned.

His posture is very upright and his uniform is neatly arranged. In the past, I would have admired such a person. But now, I just want him to repent.

"I'm afraid the empire I know is different from the one you know."

I told him and he sighed.

Just this moment made me angry - what? Are you disappointed by my answer?

I controlled myself with difficulty, and he spoke again: "Then, let me put it another way, Lord Zabriel. Are you still loyal to the Emperor?"

I nodded without hesitation.

It has become almost instinctive, and as absurd as it sounds, it is what it is, and I am loyal to the Emperor. I remained loyal to him until the very end.

The Emperor did not betray us, it was my brothers and my Primarch who betrayed us. The Emperor did not rain down artillery fire on us, did not rush in with sword in hand and slaughter us.

The Emperor sat gravely wounded on a torture device, struggling to maintain the Star Torch. All knew it, they wept, and I saw more—I knew that the Emperor had not changed.

He is still the Emperor when I swore allegiance to him, and I am his Angel of Death, the original Angel of Death. I will fight for him as he fights for us.

"Very good, thank you." Shefa said.

He nodded and slowly stood up. I looked at him confused, not understanding what he was going to do. But he looked at me with a lack of interest, his face full of absurd helplessness.

I was stunned. I gradually realized what he was doing.

He raised his right hand, took off his hat, pressed it to his chest, pressed his fingers against the shining eagle, and then spoke in a low voice.

It was hard for me to hear what he said because a door opened behind him and someone I knew very well walked in. I knew who he was without even having to tell.

My blood began to boil, and a rage that exceeded the limits of my ability to resist came over me, and I allowed it to take hold of me.

I heard a voice yell: "Traitor!"

Was that me shouting? Maybe, I hate to admit it, because the roar sounds very weak.

"Funny, you called me a traitor," he said, turning aside and letting the damned mortal go.

I stood up gasping for breath, finding it hard to breathe, or even to live. My first thought went to my guns, so I reached for them, but they weren't there, and neither was my knife.

I have nothing but this armor with blurred markings, and myself.

But that's enough.

I rushed towards my primarch and was knocked to the ground by him. That's as it should be, isn't it? How could I possibly fight against him? I knew this when I was far away in Caliban. I watched him slaughter his heirs, the new recruits, with the lion sword.

They had just finished their training, dressed in ceremonial armor, and wanted to meet the Gene Father. They met and were killed by the Gene Father.

I got up tremblingly, and he stood there, looking at me with empty hands, without any attempt to stop me.

"Come on!" I growled at him, then charged at him again.

He looked at me and time seemed to stand still. I saw his eyes clearly. They were no longer the same as before. The familiar emerald green was gone, replaced by a dark green that had gone through vicissitudes of life and changes in the world.

This made me start to observe him instinctively. I noticed that he was old. He was obviously old. His hair and beard even seemed to have faded.

He reached out and took my right fist.

A question was born in my mind.

"Already." I said tremblingly. "How long has it been?"

My primarch stared down at me with pity in his eyes, and then he sighed.

"Ten thousand years," he said.

My eyes went dark.