40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 648 31. The belated trial (4, Forest in the Mirror, 8k)

After the horn successfully conveyed his words, the lion had an intuition that they would come.

His reason told him that this was unlikely to happen. Any commander with normal intelligence would never comply with his wishes and lead the fleet to surrender, unless he was a mentally retarded person and there were no normal people around him.

What's more, it was the Ten Thousand Eyes, a Chaos warband composed of fallen angels.

Considering what they've done so far, it's unlikely that the leader of the Ten Thousand Eyes is just an ordinary warrior. This warband had escaped encirclement and suppression several times in the past, and then disappeared, until decades later it appeared on the edge of a galaxy to plunder and harass.

This means that Wanyan knows very well how much of his words are true and how much of them are false, especially those about honor.

The lion began to carelessly rub the handle of the Spear of Dionysus with his fingers, and received a burst of protest from Leman Russ. He ignored it, still staring intently at the holographic projection in front of him.

The scene of the entire Camas galaxy was condensed into a thumbnail by this tactical table, which was showing the original body from more than ten different angles, and the analysis results were scrolling aside.

The pictures and results are all first-hand information uploaded from the ambushed fleets. The delay is not particularly high, but it cannot be transmitted in real time.

However, this is enough.

The Lion is quite tolerant towards technology. Information is the lifeblood of war. This is true. However, with the empire's technological level, this lifeline can only be stinky, slow and long.

Of course, one thing is for sure, no matter which angle you look at it, Camas is very calm and there is nothing unusual about it. Not to mention the Mandeville point inside the galaxy, which has long been strictly monitored.

Once there is an abnormality in the readings, the preheated artillery will wait for the opportunity to pour firepower capable of destroying everything into the possible Thousand Eyes Fleet.

Therefore, the Lion can say this - all military forces loyal to him in the entire galaxy are ready for war. No matter what kind of war happens, they will not hesitate. They just go to war and do whatever it takes to win.

The only problem is, war isn't coming, at least not yet.

"They will come."

The lion suddenly spoke in a determined tone. The words were clear and the voice was cold and low, echoing in the quiet room, hitting the wall again and again.

His voice gradually became distorted, until it completely dissipated, and the short sentence had turned into a heavy muffled sound, almost like the sound made by the sharp and huge blade of the guillotine when it landed heavily and completed its work.

The head rolled into the basket, blood spurted into the crowd, cheering people and dead bodies

Khalil Lohars asked slowly.

"How can I see it?"

He was sitting in front of a huge porthole, holding a book of "Memorial of Misty Star Territory" in his hand and flipping through it. Two crossed swords hung above his head, gleaming with cold light and exuding the smell of maintenance oil.

The ever-changing and gorgeous light outside the window shone on his face, like a mask, blurring his facial features and details, making him feel as if he was bathed in light. Either he was born in the light, or he was destroyed in the light.

The Lion frowned and did not answer the question immediately. Instead, he first issued a series of complex commands to the main bridge of the Blade of Reason through the communication device on the holographic projection platform.

Then, within minutes, the light on Khalil's face began to move bit by bit, and his face became clear again. As for the light of the stars, it has disappeared, completely obscured by the Blade of Reason's resolute steel.

The lion walked towards him.

"Did I interrupt your little enjoyment?"

"No, not at all, Leon" Khalil replied resignedly. "How dare I, a powerful lord?"

"Then why do you ask that kind of question?" the lion asked dissatisfied. "Also, I don't think this joke is funny."

Khalil smiled visibly at the Lion's rare bluntness at this time.

He raised his head from the book, and then closed his palms, taking the heavy book with him. A gust of wind that was not too big was born with a dull sound, carrying dust and hitting the lion's face, but was dispersed by his breath halfway.

"Then I apologize. But, I really don't know the answer." Khalil replied very sincerely.

"I have been here with you to observe the holographic projection for twenty-one hours. Although I know that this is nothing for interstellar navigation. They may have just set off. In short, maybe I am not very good at marching and fighting. For some reason, I really don’t think they’re going to come to Camas.”

In the lion's mind, Leman Russ issued a rare objective voice: "I agree, Leon."

What do you agree with?

"He's not good at marching and fighting - what else?"

The Fenrisian said, letting out an annoying chuckle happily. The lion had heard him laugh like this countless times, but he still felt uncontrollably annoyed. Not to mention, what Ruth said next was very straightforward.

"The talent of command is innate, my brother. This kind of talent cannot be supplemented by acquired learning. If you have it, you have it, if you don't have it, you don't have it. And you and I are born sitting on a table made up of tens of thousands of top talents. On the throne, overlooking the others."

Are you calling me arrogant? the lion asked displeasedly.

"That's not the case, brother. It's just that I want to tell you that our good uncle is indeed a good hand at killing, but this is almost the only thing he can do in his life. Haven't you heard about his poor skills in mechanical maintenance?"

"Don't think too highly of him, you idiot - and you'd better change your attitude towards others. Why do you always use that outdated theory of knightly discipline to require your sub-groups? You don't really want to find an opportunity to rebuild the Grand Knights, do you?"

The lion's eyes twitched, and he threw the Spear of Dionysus with lightning speed. Like an ordinary stick, it fell on a carpet and rolled left and right.

Khalil looked at him, then at the Spear of Dionysus, and raised his left hand very politely: "Leon -"

" - I think they will come."

The lion interrupted him abruptly, and quickly turned his back, put his hands on the tactical table, and dragged him to the porthole, cutting off the possibility of Khalil standing up.

".Okay, then what's the reason?"

There is no reason. The Caliban thought silently and angrily, forcing himself not to turn around.

He was very angry with himself now.

Fortunately, he was no longer the young man who could not control his anger. It was especially fortunate and coincidental that three hours later, the 'reason' was smashed to pieces by a battle barge that jumped out of Kamas Mandeville Point.

"Only one ship?" The lion asked with frowns.

"Yes, my lord, only one ship." Captain Glendaen responded to his master with almost the same frown. "I have confirmed it twelve times, and there is indeed only one ship."

The lion narrowed his eyes and stared at the blasphemous battle barge, and his eyes felt a sting. The reason was nothing else, just because of the appearance of this barge.

The dark red paint that seemed to be soaked in blood and the huge chaos eight-pointed star on it dared to appear in his sight so openly

Subconsciously, he regarded it as a provocation. But he did not get angry, instead he ignored it with contempt, and then immediately issued an order requiring all ships to lower the porthole armor plates and strictly prohibit direct observation of the ship itself.

Even the Rational Front obeyed this order.

Amid the flashing red lights and loud alarms, the holographic projection platform on the bridge began to hum, and the sound was urgent.

The lion ignored it and turned to look at Glendaan. He and the captain had been together for sixty-six years. At this time, he only used a glance to make the captain understand and hand over a data tablet.

In the hands of the captain, the data tablet was almost like a shield of medium size. But for the lion, it was just a small tool that could be grasped with three fingers.

He lowered his head and glanced at the screen, and came to a conclusion from the chaotic data flow-the analysis of the identity code was proceeding at a high speed. So he held the data tablet tightly, waited for a while, and got a name and a conclusion in just three seconds.

"The Mountains, belonging to the Warhound, lost three centuries ago."

He read it out, without any anger in his voice, but it made everyone on the bridge stay sane. The lion put down the data pad and placed it on the surface of a tactical table, then strode to the holographic projection table and pressed the communication rune with his own hands.

After a slight sound, a burning image appeared on the bridge of the Edge of Reason. The lion raised his head, stared at him with a completely calm gaze, and uttered his name.

"Serafax."

"Primarch." The man called Serafax bowed gracefully and greeted politely. "Do you still remember me?"

"I remember everyone." The lion replied indifferently. "Whether it is a traitor or a loyalist."

"So, in your opinion, which side do I belong to?"

After asking this question, Serafax couldn't help laughing. Obviously, he himself knew the answer to this question.

His actions received many cold stares and angry looks. There was no doubt that many people on the bridge at this time, whether mortals or Astartes, wanted to see him bleed all over the ground.

The lion did not get angry, and even his expression did not change. He just asked calmly.

"Are you ready?"

"What preparation?" The Burning Man asked, and the curiosity in his tone was hard to conceal.

The lion did not answer, but slowly raised his left hand. He did not clench his fist, but as long as he clenched his fist, all the destructive forces aimed at Mandeville Point would not hesitate to fire at the former Mountains.

Serafax obviously knew what he meant, but he seemed unhurried and even shook his head very calmly.

"Primarch, I came alone."

"Are you here to die?" The lion asked indifferently. "Then you did a great job."

"I don't deny that my actions do have such implications, but that's not what I want. I have been on the run for a hundred centuries, Primarch. Therefore, I will never waste my life in vain. Otherwise, wouldn't the lives of all those who sacrificed for me be in vain?"

Serafax restrained his smile and spoke with absolute seriousness, stroking his chest.

"I apply to board the ship, alone. I am willing to accept all inspections and all restraints, as long as I can talk to you face to face. After that, no matter what you do to me, I am willing to accept it."

The lion looked at him coldly without saying a word. Ten minutes later, many boarding torpedoes and assault boats hit the fallen battle barge.

As Serafax said, there was really no one on it except him. Despite this, the ship was still able to remain operational.

The Dark Angels did not dwell on this matter too much. They just carefully searched the ship under the instructions of the think tanks to find possible sneak attackers and began to arrange the purification ceremony.

If the Mountains can still be saved, the machine spirit will naturally respond. If not, it will disintegrate in the flames. As for Serafax himself, he has been escorted to the Rational Front by a team of Terminators and the Chief Think Tank.

He was put on an anti-psychic collar, his hands and feet were tightly bound by self-destructive shackles, his vestments were taken off, and the various ornaments hanging around his waist, neck and wrists were directly destroyed in front of him.

He himself was indifferent to this, and always maintained a leisurely smile. It is worth mentioning that the fire burning on his body has never been extinguished.

——

"You want to see me?" The lion asked.

He stood in front of Serafax fully armed, with his left hand on the sword. Behind him, the Angel of Absolution and their only attendant were holding weapons as guards. This was the request of the lion, and he asked the dark angels to stay outside the dark room as a warning.

He had made an oath to Asmodai and the Angel of Absolution.

"Yes, my lord - and I am glad to see you, old brothers." Serafax said with a smile.

His calmness made the seventy-five Angels of Absolution show a certain degree of murderous intent, and one of them even roared and cursed directly.

"You damn traitor!"

"Yes, yes, Ectorel, I am glad to see you too." The wizard said perfunctorily.

"You betrayed the Emperor's teachings!" another man rebuked, frowning. "Even among traitors, those who fell into Chaos are the most hated."

"I admit that I did deviate from the 'right path' he taught us, Zabril, but there is a reason. I--"

The lion raised his right hand, making all the sounds disappear, including the words that Serafax had not finished.

The wizard was kneeling on the ground, his hands were shackled behind his back, and the anti-psychic collar on his neck provided another function besides causing him pain-making it difficult for him to look up at the lion's face, so he could only keep his head down at all times.

He could only see the lion's armor and boots, that's all. Of course, this also meant that he could not see his 'old brothers', that is, he only recognized Ectorel and Zabril by voice.

"Now, you see me." The lion spoke slowly.

He put his right hand on the hilt, and the sound of his fingers touching the weapon itself was extremely obvious in the dark room at this time. Everyone could clearly capture it, as well as the thoughts that the lion suddenly revealed.

'I can kill you at any time'

Serafax heard his words clearly, but did not answer. Not only that, he even tried to move his knees to get closer to the lion.

At this moment, at least more than twenty guns were raised by their owners and pointed at his head. As long as he made any unusual movements, these people would open fire without hesitation.

However, the wizard himself did not seem to care. He tried hard to make this ugly and embarrassing attempt, and the lion did not retreat.

He drew out his sword, placed it across Serafax's left shoulder, and pointed it at his neck.

As long as the decomposition field was activated, he didn't even need to swing the sword, and the wizard would be immediately decapitated.

"Anything else you want to say?" The lion asked calmly.

Serafax raised his head with difficulty, and finally barely saw the lion's face at this moment. He exhaled a breath of foul air, and all kinds of complex emotions flashed across his face. All of this finally condensed into a bitter smile.

"My Primarch, you have changed." The wizard said sadly. "You have become much kinder. If you were still the Lion King before, I am afraid I would have died long ago and would never have the chance to say any last words."

He spoke very slowly, so someone among the seventy-five people immediately growled: "He is stalling for time, my Lord, please allow me to kill him!"

The lion ignored this, and the same was true for Serafax. The wizard took a deep breath and continued to speak very sincerely.

"Time changes everything. It makes a violent monarch peaceful, makes the betrayal rarely mentioned, and makes your descendants wander around and suffer the tearing of the world."

"Look at us, father, what do you see? My mutation? Zabril's aging? Or Ectorel's scars? Time can change everything, but it will also leave traces, and traces cannot be erased, just like betrayal itself."

He paused for a few seconds, his lips trembled, and the only good eye left actually shed deep red blood.

"Betrayal is betrayal. Everyone will remember that there was a rebellion on Caliban. This matter cannot be erased, and so are the effects of this matter. But think about it, if it had never happened, what would we be like?"

The lion remained indifferent.

Serafax stared at him very seriously. The desire on his face stung the eyes of all the angels of forgiveness. Whether they were willing to admit it or not, that desire had appeared in their dreams.

"Father." Serafax whispered in a deep voice. "Please imagine, if there had been no rebellion on Caliban, how many people would have arrived on Terra with you in the end? How many shells would have been left, and how many warships would have been available?"

It was just a fantasy! Zabril thought indignantly. However, his thoughts could not stop Serafax from doing what he wanted to do. Little by little, the wizard's voice gradually turned into a high-pitched, passionate and sincere speech.

"Most importantly, if the Caliban Rebellion had never happened, would the Emperor not have been seriously injured?"

"With the help of the complete First Legion, Horus would never have been able to reach the Imperial Palace. In this case, would the Emperor not have to sit on the torture device? If he could still walk among us, what would the Empire look like?"

"Would the Empire - the country we love, fight for, and bleed for - have become the ugly dead but not stiff appearance it is now?"

"Brothers!" Serafax roared with all his heart. "Don't say you haven't hated the present Empire! Don't say you haven't recalled the simple truths of the Great Crusade! Don't say you have never imagined fighting alongside the Emperor again!"

"Enough."

In the silence of the Angels of Absolution, the Lion spoke coldly. The decomposition field crackled, and the blade was raised, slashing towards Serafax's neck at lightning speed without any hesitation.

At the critical moment of life and death, a calm smile appeared on the wizard's face, as if he had expected it. In his smile, the Lion's sword pierced his neck.

No blood flowed, no head fell to the ground. Serafax still knelt in the same place, unharmed. His upper body was waving, illusory like a flower in the water, a moon in the mirror.

But he was kneeling here after all.

"Fire!" Zabril roared immediately.

He received responses from seventy-five people - even Asmodai. In the entire dark room, everyone except the Lion opened fire on Serafax at this moment.

Bombs, heavy bombs, plasma and many other deadly weapons bombarded at the same time. Even a big demon should be beaten to pieces, but somehow, the wizard was not hurt.

All the destructive power passed through him. Apart from destroying the floor tiles and digging deep into the structure below, it did not cause any other damage.

Without the order of the lion, the angels of pardon stopped shooting with ugly faces.

Asmodai, who was demoted to a servant, drew his chainsaw sword and rushed forward, aiming at Serafax and slashing repeatedly, but none of them worked, and only made the strange fluctuations more and more intense, as if Asmodai was really slashing at the lake with a sword.

Keeping that calm smile, the wizard stood up little by little.

The shackles fell off naturally and fell at his feet with a muffled sound. Then came the anti-psychic collar. This precious instrument was actually broken into pieces little by little in the blue light of Serafax's eyes, splashing on the ground.

He could actually use psychic powers.

In such a scene that went against common sense and cognition, the lion's face showed no shock at all. He raised his hand to hold Asmodai, gently pushed him back to the team, then sheathed his sword and asked again with complete calmness.

"What do you want to do?"

"Are you trying to get me to explain my plan?"

With an ambiguous smile, Serafax asked. He stood in front of his primarch with his bare hands, and he seemed unusually relaxed. Moreover, before the lion answered, he smiled and nodded.

"That's no problem, primarch, of course I can explain it to you." Serafax said gently. "It's just that I'm not one of those stupid ambitious people who will take on the identity of the winner just before the thing is about to be done, and speak nonsense to the loser he has identified."

"Of course I will explain it to you, but why should I do this?"

He raised his hand and pointed behind the lion, one second, two seconds. When time slowly came to the ninth second, the door of the dark room was pushed open. Azrael rushed in and reported to the lion at a very fast speed.

"Primarch! All the brothers we sent to the Mountains were attacked!"

The lion nodded to him, calmly and slightly, but as if it contained a thousand pounds of strength. He easily calmed down the young dark angel, and there was still no surprise on his face.

There was only calmness, as deep as the sea, as dangerous as the dark primeval forest.

He turned his head and looked at Serafax.

"You seem to think you have calculated everything?" he asked.

"I have never thought so."

The lion nodded: "It doesn't matter, you are very proud, Serafax. You have some kind of reliance, which gives you courage and allows you to come to me alone."

"Based on the current situation, your reliance is indeed special. It saves you from death and even allows you to do this kind of thing-"

He stepped forward and raised his foot to crush one of Serafax's shackles, but stepped on nothing.

Zabril's pupils shrank sharply.

"--But it's meaningless." The lion said. "I also have something to rely on."

The wizard looked at him steadily, and after a few seconds, he suddenly uttered a name: "Instructor Caril Rohals?"

The lion finally frowned.

Serafax smiled again.

"Yes, I know he is on my ship now, Primarch. You may be surprised, but it's only because you don't know me. And you haven't thought about getting to know me."

"If you are willing to ask about my past, then with your keenness, I believe you will find out about this in advance. Unfortunately, it is too late now."

The wizard lowered his head, muttered to himself and began to pace.

"Since Caliban left, I have been deeply involved in the subspace. To this day, although I cannot grasp every detail in this vast ocean, those huge waves are different. Even if I am really blind and deaf, They can also completely overwhelm me."

"Not long ago, a huge wave swept across the entire subspace and attacked me like this, drowning me in it. Erebus of the Word Bearers died. Do you know this?"

"He is dead. Even though he was powerful enough to display otherworldly powers in both the material world and the warp, he is still dead. So, who did it? Yago Severtarion of the Eighth Legion ?”

"I believe it must be him. He is strong enough and has sworn to do this. The oaths of the Night Blades have extremely strong binding force, but the truth goes beyond that."

"I see the truth," the wizard murmured. "The huge wave that was set off when Erebus died was indeed spectacular, sweeping almost half of the subspace. However, this wave was actually just an annotation for another piece of news."

"In the final analysis, the huge wave was caused by his return. And Erebus is just a damn traitor and a ridiculous clown. It is the greatest honor of his life that he can be mentioned together with that instructor."

The lion sneered slowly. He made no comment on the rebellious heir's crazy words, and his contempt was obvious. Of course, this is true for him, but not necessarily for others.

Zabriel roared unbearably: "Do you think you are any different from him, traitor! How many innocent people have your so-called war gang killed?!"

"Of course there is a difference, brother," Serafax said. "He does it for himself, but I am different. I do it for you."

Serafax raised his hands, and the pale silver robe began to condense and spread over his body, which was only wearing underwear. The burning flame began to expand, but there was no joy or arrogance in the only half of his intact face.

Zabriel reluctantly admitted that he could only see sadness from above.

Moreover, his voice was so gentle and serious. The belief is easy to understand without any explanation.

Such a voice can appear in staunch warriors, loyal soldiers and devout believers, but, in Serafax? Appearing in the body of a traitor who has been blessed by Tzeentch, has a highly mutated body, and has repeatedly done evil in the past?

Zabriel couldn't bear it anymore, and in front of Asmodai, he suddenly tightened his grip on his sword.

"Listen up, Serafax."

With a bang, the lion drew his sword again. As if he had faced the counterfeit that had taken away Horus Luperkar, he held the sword in both hands, and his faded blond hair automatically floated slowly in the wind.

A forest that shouldn't exist grew beneath his feet.

"I will find you, and I will kill you." Leon El'Jonson declared, with murderous intent on his face. "No matter what you do, I will chop you into pieces."

"Come then, father," said Serafax sadly. "I'll wait for you at Caliban."

He raised his right hand, and there was a flash of silver light on the cuff. It was a mirror that looked small, but it reflected the lion and the people behind him.

Within that mirror, there is also a forest. A forest wrapped in blazing flames and endless corpses.

The lion's movements suddenly froze.

Eighty-one seconds later, Glendane, the captain of the Blade of Reason, delivered a very sudden message to the nearby fleet and the Dark Angels remaining on the surface of Camas.

He was questioned, insulted and even threatened multiple times at the same time, but the old captain was indifferent to all of them. He just roared in the communication channel and began to torture everyone's ears with a tough tone.

"I'm damn sure of it! You fat-brained idiot! The Lion and his bodyguard are missing, and it must be the traitor's fault! The Emperor protects us!"

Far away on the former Mountains and now the Blade of Truth, Khalil, who was slowly walking out of the darkness wearing an Inquisitor's coat, also heard the news.

"very funny."

He commented lightly and walked towards a sand pit full of corpses.