40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 639 22. Trial (End, 7k)

"How many times has this happened, Asmodai?"

I heard the lion ask. He stood in the middle of the interrogation room, and the dim light from above made the area around his eyes dark.

I think he is probably very angry now, but I am actually almost the same.

I don't understand what set of rules these young men in charge use, but in our era, infighting and private fighting are absolutely intolerable.

If someone is dissatisfied with another brother, they can go to the duel field to solve the problem, and their brothers and company commanders will help to eliminate the conflict. This is already very rare, and in most cases, there will be no rift between us.

The behavior of pointing a gun at a fighting brother in public like just now will attract severe punishment, but then again, I don't think that the idiot who was disarmed by his brother will realize his mistake.

The reactions of Azriel and the lion told me that this kind of thing is probably not the first time. And I know very well that people who are willing to repent will not make the same mistake again.

"The fourth time."

Asmodai answered the lion's question in an ambiguous voice.

It was difficult for me to control myself, and I subconsciously wanted to ask.

What happened? I frowned, not understanding why someone could stay in the legion after making the same mistake four times in a row. Could it be that discipline and character are no longer respected? What about self-reflection?

Moreover, the idiot didn't even look at him when answering the lion's question. Whether it was guilty or cowardly, this was not what a knight did.

"Did you want to kill him just now?" The lion asked again, his expression very calm.

He was asking knowingly.

Realizing this made me feel relieved. I don't care whether he defends me or not. Some rules must be established. In the legion, it is not okay to point a gun at another brother.

But Asmodai's next answer was difficult for me to understand.

"Yes."

I heard the idiot say this, and he even looked up at me, with naked hatred in his eyes.

I turned to the Lion immediately, and frankly, I was very worried that he would draw his sword and kill this stupid and stubborn idiot on the spot. Although he didn't have a sword, it was definitely not a problem.

A few seconds later, the Lion put my worries to rest with another question, which was a good thing, but it also made me a little puzzled - this was undoubtedly not the style of Lion El'Jonson.

I had to remind myself again that the Lion was no longer the same as I remembered him back then. He had changed.

The most direct evidence of this was myself: if he was still as violent as before, then how could I still be alive?

"So, this means you have a problem with my orders?"

".No." Asmodai whispered.

Good, idiot. Keep your voice down to show your humility. In front of the leader and the primarch, you should do so.

The Lion asked again: "Then why did you draw your gun and point it at his forehead?"

And this time, Asmodai chose to answer with silence.

At first I thought he was just thinking, but when the silence gradually stretched and finally reached the twentieth second, I could no longer control my anger - Emperor, how could there be such a fool in this world?

In my anger, the lion took a step forward and came to Asmodai.

I secretly hoped that he would impose some kind of punishment, at least at the beginning, my mind was still on this. However, when the lion really did it, I felt cold all over, as if even my blood was frozen.

In the center of this interrogation room, the lion tore everything around him with his anger. He looked at Asmodai with his beard and hair standing up, staring at him intently.

The heavy pressure unconsciously occupied every inch of the corner, making it difficult to breathe, as if someone held your lungs with his invisible hands, and then suddenly exerted force, tightly holding them.

In the slow suffocation, I must admit one thing, I am actually very familiar with his expression.

I saw him rushing into us with the same expression on Caliban, holding the lion sword tightly.

Back then, before I saw it, I was with the recruits. I remember it was in a woodland outside the city, sparsely populated but very large. I picked out fifty of them and taught them how to form a ceremonial formation.

It was an annoying formality, but if they were to attend certain events with the Lion one day in the future, this etiquette was necessary.

It was a good lesson, the students were happy to learn, I was happy to teach, and everything went very well.

They thought about the future, standing beside the Primarch in ceremonial armor covered with medals. I looked back to the past, how I followed the Lion to Terra and the Emperor's Dream.

Until forty minutes later, it began to rain fire.

We rushed to the city.

And then.

"I am disappointed in you, Asmodai."

I looked up suddenly, and so did Azrael, who had always remained calm. As for Asmodai, he looked red in the face. No, this word is not enough to describe his appearance at this moment, but I can hardly find a better word.

He slumps his shoulders in dejection, awaiting the Primarch's final fate - not only him, but we also want to know what the Lion will do with him. It's just that this kid Azrael was worried, but I was gloating.

"But at the same time, you also make me lose face."

Emperor—! I couldn't hide my shock and looked at my original body, but I only heard his increasingly lower tone.

"Every time you disobey me, I feel guilty, but this time is especially serious. So, am I incompetent, my son?"

"I can't make you understand our true mission, nor can I make your reason immune to the influence of hatred. I think that's the case, otherwise things wouldn't have come to this point."

Asmodai, who had been silent until now, suddenly shouted: "No, father!"

I was shocked again and looked at him again.

Funny thing is, we rarely call lions this way. Few of us call him father, because the lion really doesn't seem like a person who can be called father.

Although he was indeed our genetic father, there must be less of a paternal component than anything else in the mixed feelings most of the Legion had about him. As for someone like Asmodai calling out the word father with such sincerity, I really can't imagine it.

Furthermore, his voice was so trembling when he shouted that I believe it was not just shame at work.

Some of the questions got stuck in my throat but I couldn't get them out because they were so ridiculous to me.

I thought anxiously, trying to get the answer on my own. This attempt failed, and the lion spoke again, interrupting my meditation. In his deep voice, some truth quietly flowed out.

"Twenty-two years ago, I chased the fallen angels to Sakator, your hometown. I arrived a step too late. I only saw a burning planet, and the murderer had already left."

"I ordered an emergency landing, and the entire army went out to search for traitors and protect the innocent. The entire operation lasted for three days, and there were only 376 survivors, and you are the only child among them."

"When I found you, you only had one breath left. Your parents used their bodies to protect you and withstood the weight of the ruins hundreds of times their own weight. There is no doubt that this is a miracle. , you didn’t deserve to die, so I took you away.”

"Fifteen years ago, I told you the truth. I told you who the murderers were and why they did what they did. And you asked me if they had been punished. What did I say then, Asmodei?"

".You tell me, they will, but retribution will not find them on its own."

"Yes." The lion nodded slowly. "I promised you that you would get a chance for revenge. Did I break my promise?"

"No."

"Did I break my promise?"

"No, father." Asmodai said through gritted teeth. "You personally trained me after that."

"Yes, you will get your chance for revenge - but look at this man." The lion raised his hand and pointed at me. "Have you read the information? Do you think he was the murderer who destroyed your hometown and killed your parents?"

I puffed up my chest to accept Asmodai's possible observation, and I wanted to vent the anger in my heart. If he looked at me with that hateful look again, maybe I would feel better.

But after another long silence, I heard him say, "He's a fallen angel, father."

I almost sighed.

This idiot, whose stubbornness has turned the good-tempered temptations from the Lion that I have only seen twice in my life into completely useless efforts. Does he really not understand how rare it is for such a thing to happen to our Primarch?

I didn't know what to say anymore, but the lion smiled.

"Really? In this case-"

He turned to look at me, and I instinctively stood at attention, steel boots clashing.

"——Zabriel, come here."

I walked towards him.

"This is Zabriel."

He pressed my shoulders, walked up behind me, and began to introduce me to the two young men—mostly to Asmodai, but Azrael also listened attentively. Yes, he barely qualified in terms of discipline.

"Former member of the Skeleton Army, one of the Knights of the Deathwings when they were first created. Before I returned to the Legion, he was already full of honor. He and his brothers fought alongside the Emperor."

"After what happened to Caliban, he was forced into exile for nearly four centuries without killing any innocent people. He could have gone to some wild world and become a local god by his own ability, but he didn't do that Do."

"He held his own."

"But yes, he is a fallen angel. So what are you going to do, Asmodai? Are you going to kill him?"

There was another long silence, the idiot still didn't answer the question, and I was starting to get bored. The lion has changed and become kind and patient, but I would rather he not be like this.

I believe that he will not let Asmodai do this just because of the special bond between him and him, but what else is there to say?

Perhaps in the eyes of a fool like Asmodai, all fallen angels deserve to die. I also admit that some of us do, those who betray humanity.

But our lives belong to the Emperor and the Lion, and they alone can judge us.

Asmodai stared at me as if I were an unforgivable traitor, full of hatred. However, where did the underlying color of this hatred come from? Was it the sense of responsibility to maintain the glory of the Legion? Absolutely not, his hatred was just selfish.

He confused the proper scale between public and private, and placed his hatred above the Legion. In my opinion, he was not worthy of wearing that black armor at all.

The lion broke the silence coldly.

"Think about everything first, and you obviously didn't do this, Asmodai, so I will exempt you from your knighthood and you will become Zabril's squire. You must obey all his orders until he thinks you are qualified to become a knight again."

Asmodai trembled and widened his eyes, and I could see that he must be tightening his throat. I heard a subtle hoarse sound, which made me happy-but, let him be my squire?

I tilted my head slightly and saw a sly smile.

Ah. So you are thinking about this.

"Will you obey?" the lion asked again.

".I obey."

"Very good, now dismiss, go to the armory to remove your power armor, remove the emblem on it, and then report to your captain and inform him of your problem. Before tonight, I want to see you change into the robes of the servants. Azrael, you accompany him."

The lion ordered this and gestured to me, indicating that I should follow him. I took a breath and walked out of the door with him. The two young boys followed closely behind us, and the footsteps gradually faded away. One was fast and the other was slow, and the meaning was self-evident.

The lion led me to the depths of the corridor and stopped in front of a door. This door was different from mine. It was a special iron gray and extremely heavy. I had never seen this alloy. I thought it was probably a new thing that was born after my exile.

However, my escape did not exceed four centuries at most. How come it was suddenly ten thousand years later?

"Zabriel." The lion suddenly called me, his tone was a little humorous. "Do you have any objection to my order?"

"What order, sir?" I answered without any sense of humor.

"Do you think Asmodai is qualified to be your squire?"

I wanted to sigh, but held back: "If he was really trained by you personally, then he must be qualified."

"Really? Compared with your former chief of arms Ambro?"

"He is far from it." I said bluntly. "No one can compare with Ambro in this position."

I'm not kidding, I really think so. Ambro was one of the "new systems" introduced after the Lion returned to the Legion. At that time, I was no longer a member of the Skeleton Sky Army, but a member of the Death Wing.

The Calibans began to enter the Legion and brought with them the tradition of the Knights they were proud of. We old Terran guys are not really interested in this, but the origin of the Primarch still attracted us.

In a few years, we were all knights, and knights naturally need a large group of servants to take care of their daily lives.

To be honest, I don't like people serving me tea, water and towels in my spare time. I'm not the kind of noble waste who seems to have no hands and feet. Ambro is my only servant. Therefore, the title of the chief armament officer is actually quite funny.

I couldn't help but fall into memories.

Ambro always performed very well. He could maintain my armor without any stains, and he could also make every weapon of mine covered with maintenance oil. He was meticulous in doing things and always gave me the right advice.

There were many times when his opinions from a mortal perspective saved me from the embarrassment of being angry. He also did a great job at the banquet, his manners were impeccable, and the wine in my wine glass was never empty.

Also, although he was my servant, he never looked down on himself. After the Lion returned to the Legion, all the honors I achieved were hidden behind his shadow.

I think he influenced me to a certain extent and made me a better person.

It was incredible to say, how could an Astartes be influenced by a mortal? But that was the era of the Great Crusade, not this era of ignorance, fanaticism and people like Asmodai.

Ambro was rational and proud. He believed in the Imperial Truth. He served me because he believed he had to find a way to serve the Emperor. So did I. We were on the same path. We both wanted to fight for humanity.

But that era has passed, and Ambro is dead. He died on Caliban, like many of my brothers.

I am not dead. I don't know if this is lucky or unfortunate.

The door suddenly opened, and a gust of cold wind escaped. The cold temperature immediately caused the temperature monitoring system of my old power armor to alarm. This is strange. I thought this function was broken.

I looked at the open door, trying to find out the reason for the cold, but I only saw a mortal standing there.

He was tall, almost catching up with some inferior armed servitors, but his height was obviously not the main reason for the drop in temperature, so my eyes passed him.

Wait.

I looked away and stared at him again.

I remembered - I almost called out his name. My voice echoed in the corridor, carrying a name that kept colliding and swirling, and gradually dissipated into a hollow and distorted sound.

The mortal looked at me curiously, acting as if he was an irrelevant person, but I would never mistake him.

He was Caryl Rohals.

But why is he so much shorter?

"Are you done?" he asked.

Of course he wasn't asking me.

"Absolutely, where are you?" I heard the lion reply, which made me more certain of my guess. But how could anyone shrink?

"It depends on what you think," Khalil Lohars said with a smile. "However, for now, the information I have received is completely sufficient - you can leave anytime you want."

He raised his right hand, tensed his fingers, and waved it slightly. I suddenly felt a stinging pain in front of my eyes. After that, the sound of a sharp knife slicing through the air filled the air.

"There's no rush yet." The lion said calmly. "After pursuing it for so long, even if it takes such a short time to wait, the damned people will die eventually, and they will not be able to escape retribution."

Khalil Lohars's expression suddenly became a little strange. I didn't understand the reason. I only heard him say: "Maybe it is more appropriate for me to say this."

The lion laughed and tapped me on the shoulder to leave. I was grateful to him for rescuing me from this embarrassing situation, and it would have been better if the method he chose had not been another more troublesome command.

He asked me to go to the deck outside and take the 'old brothers' who had passed the interrogation to find the current leader of the Dark Angel Chapter.

This is definitely the first-class hard work in the world. But I have no choice.

I left here grumbling and taking his blessing.

——

"The vast majority of them have abandoned the Legion."

After Zabriel left, the lion spoke like this. His voice was calm, but Khalil could hear the pain in it.

"I understand. After all, they are being hunted. They must evade pursuit until the abominable alien takes them away."

"When they were on Caliban, they were forced to fight me and my brothers, with gunfire falling from the sky, and then murder and war. There was no reason, just weapons against each other. That was enough to drive people crazy, let alone after that. Persistent pursuit."

Leon El'Jonson closed his eyes, and Khalil heard him take a deep breath.

"So? What do you want to say?" Khalil asked softly.

"They are lucky, but also unlucky." The lion said with his eyes closed. "They did not die in Caliban's civil strife. After that, every second they lived had to pay for it, but what was their fault?"

"I spare no traitor, but I am not willing to wrong any loyalist. They deserve a second chance, don't they, Khalil?"

"This is your regiment, Your Highness."

"Chapter," the Lion corrected, opening his eyes and glancing at Khalil. "Are you laughing at me?"

"No." Khalil smiled. "I do not think so."

He got a snort.

The lion strode towards the open door and closed it. Khalil walked out of the other half of the darkness as if nothing happened.

This place is different from Zabriel's interrogation room. The light has been dimmed to the point of causing damage to human eyes, but this is not the most eye-catching point.

In the center of the room, there was a metal chair welded to the ground. Its surface showed a strange dark red color, as if it had been stained with blood many times. A giant who had been stripped of his power armor sat on it, his hands and feet pierced and bound by chains.

He had multiple cuts all over his body, his flesh and blood were open, and the nerves connected to his bones were clearly visible.

The lion looked at him coldly.

The man raised his head weakly, looking into the darkness with wide eyes like a mortal. The burly figure of the lion was quickly captured by him, but the man suddenly sneered.

"Ah, who do I think is here? You sent a judge, then an executioner, and now you are finally willing to condescend to see me in person?"

He twisted his face, shook his body up and down, and nodded to the lion as if saluting him.

"Hello, father! Where is the great Leon El'Jonson!" he hissed. "It's been so long!"

The lion calmly called his name: "Indeed, Nadir, long time no see."

The fallen angel named Nadir immediately cursed.

"I hope you are burned to a crisp by the fire of hell! I curse you, Leon! You are not worthy to be our Primarch at all! Even for these lame impostors, you are not worthy!"

"Have you told them of your deeds on Caliban? I hope you have, because one of the damn knightly virtues is honesty! You'd better abide by it, my primarch!"

He laughed, the muscles trembling along the skin of his slit throat.

The lion folded his hands indifferently: "I'm here to give you a chance, Nadir."

"I refuse to accept any conditions you offer!" Nadir shouted. "You've already let that wizard torture me and read through my brain anyway, haven't you?! What a shame, the Emperor has issued a ban and you're still using the power of psychic energy!"

The lion's anger came so quickly, and in just a moment, he arrived in front of Nadir. There was no warning, the wind howled, and he had already pinched the latter's neck with his right hand.

"You no longer deserve to call him Emperor." The lion whispered with disgust. "There is no place for a traitor like you among the people he wants to protect. You betrayed humanity, betrayed him, betrayed me, and betrayed the Legion."

"I really want to know, is there anything left in your heart? Is there anything else in your two hearts that you really value and want to believe in? Hmm?"

Nadir struggled to laugh strangely, and the lion let go of his hand slightly so that he could breathe and speak. He was panting and coughing, mixed with minced meat and blood.

"No matter what you say, I am your heir. The blood connection, father, you cannot get rid of."

"Not anymore," said the Lion softly. "The moment you bloodbathed the Governor's Mansion of Saladir Star and replaced it, you were no longer my heir. You were just a scum who killed innocent people indiscriminately to satisfy your own selfish desires."

Nadir raised his head slightly, looked at his genetic father, and asked the last sentence.

"So, who brought me to this point?"

The lion clenched his right hand.

Amidst the whispers of the darkness, Khalil spoke calmly, inserting himself into the murder: "He is connected to the so-called Ten Thousand Eyes war gang."

"In what respect?" the lion asked without looking back.

"Help each other. He provides them with mortal servants as well as supplies such as experimental products and fuel in exchange for Wanyan's services."

"Serve?"

Khalil hummed, and Gujing said calmly: "Transformed creatures that combine subspace magic, or some one-time psykers. In short, they are inseparable from chaos."

"Thousands of eyes."

The lion whispered and turned around, an emotion welling up in his eyes that was very familiar to Khalil. So he sighed and asked, "So, set off immediately?"

".No."

Khalil looked at him in surprise.

"I have other things to do."

The lion explained gloomily, then paused, and then made a very strange request: "Tomorrow at eight o'clock in the morning, on the twentieth deck. Remember to wear the uniform of the Eighth Legion. I have asked someone to deliver it. your room."

He walked to the door and opened it, letting in the light and soft sounds of the corridor. This is how Khalil heard his last words.

"I ask you to witness." The lion said solemnly.