40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 665 47. The belated trial (18)

Vomiting blood, the wizard walked towards an altar bit by bit. The surroundings were dark, and there was no light visible. Only this strange stone tower exuded a dense blue light.

He was injured. Although it was not serious, the energy wrapped around the wound was very troublesome. At least in the short term, the wizard doesn't have extra energy to deal with it. He has more important things to do right now.

"It's not difficult to change another time point." Serafax heard himself say. "Just try one more time, or a few times. Success will come sooner or later."

The wizard knew that this idea was correct, but he disagreed.

The god who stood up from the Emperor's corpse had already set his sights on Caliban. For such a being, no matter how many timelines there were, it was completely useless.

The detachment of gods is their foundation. These existences are independent of the material world. No matter what happens in the mortal world, it is impossible to cause any real 'harm' to them, it is only an impact at best.

Upon closer inspection, even the act of resisting them will only add more power to them. The only ones who can impose some restrictions on them are themselves.

"What are you going to do?" Serafax heard herself ask.

The wizard reached out, passed through the blazing blue flames on the top of the altar, and accurately grasped a human bone.

It was a piece of his own rib that was removed centuries before he stepped into Caliban. After careful carving and blood sacrifice by nine wise men, it became the magical weapon it is today. It has a glass-like color and a smooth surface. The thousands of characters engraved on it are constantly twisting and changing positions on its surface like living creatures.

The wizard raised it in front of him, holding both ends with both hands, and his robe immediately danced. The strong wind invisible to the naked eye blew the robes around, but the characters on the surface of the bones suddenly stopped moving.

It wasn't until a few minutes later that the wizard lowered his arm and put the bone that belonged to him back to its original place, the flames burning brightly for a long time.

"This is really unheard of," Serafax heard himself say worriedly. "Never seen such signs, nine times foreseen, nine times asked, nine times destroyed."

The wizard limped down the altar, walking very slowly, which could almost be described as shambling. He lowered his head, and his face, which had always been burning, had returned to his normal appearance, at least that's what it looked like.

This face is not much similar to the former knight captain, but more like Serafax's appearance when he first joined the Legion - a freckle-faced red-haired young man with a slightly childish look on his features.

But his eyes were dead.

"Your plan is already very thorough, but unfortunately, it's just not enough." Serafax heard himself sighing. "The war gang will be destroyed 25% faster than calculated. Sooner or later, the incarnation of killing will tear apart this maze-like flow of time and catch you."

"Even if you ignore the sharp blade that has been placed on your neck for the time being, how are you going to deal with the 'protective measures' sent by the god? Zabriel may not have any merit at all, but he is still A dark angel."

The wizard stopped, his cassocks flowing. He sat down silently, like a tired climber on the broad stone steps. There was silence all around, and no sound could be heard in the darkness, even if the fire was burning in the brazier.

"But, you still have a chance." Serafax heard himself speak slowly. "The Lord of Change desires change, and He will not turn a blind eye while you make a hopeless plan."

"There may be ninety-nine degrees of malice in the appreciation He expressed to you, but there is also a certain last bit of sincerity."

"He has expended so much effort to allow you to go back to the past and implement your plan, but now you are not even at the point of failure. How could He allow you to fail? Think carefully, there must be a way to break the situation."

The wizard frowned and actually started to think.

At first, he had no clue, just wandering around in his mind. The meditation habit he inherited as a Dark Angel was easily transformed into some indescribable power after he stepped into the "bright future" path of a Chaos Sorcerer.

Everything in the past floated up at this moment, floating like catkins on a deep blue ocean he imagined, while his soul quickly passed by like a point of light.

"This is it." Suddenly, Serafax heard himself murmuring. "Did you see that?"

Of course the wizard saw it - in the depths of his memory, in the darkness where the glory of the Great Crusade had faded, hope was extinguished, love and hate were meaningless, and only blood, sacrifices and human screams remained, he I actually saw a real key.

A silver key, composed of nine sections of metal, each section rotating at a different speed.

Just looking at it, the wizard found in disbelief that he was dizzy. This feeling does not come from his body, but from his soul

This should have been an impossible thing. His soul had long been reduced to a bargaining chip in the hands of the Lord of Changes. However, now, this key was giving him a new kind of power.

In other words, status.

"Detachment!" Serafax heard herself scream.

"Yes." Another voice responded in a long voice.

Who is speaking? This question doesn't even need an answer.

"Yes." Tzeentch said so gently that it was almost weird. "Transcendence."

The key, the door, the answer, the hope, the question itself, nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine different lights, the wailing human face, the wise man born from the storm.

Countless pictures flashed before the wizard's eyes. He knelt down in sweat, and his robes were completely soaked - this was extremely strange. First, he had lost the ability to secrete sweat, and second, his robes were immune to many rules from the mortal world.

But the fact is the fact. He was sweating, and his robes were so wet that they seemed to be floating in the river.

Tzeentch smiled at him.

A real god, standing in front of him, standing in his mind, vivid in his memory.

"Serafax, you still have a chance."

The wizard stared at Him with his eyes wide open. Just looking at Him, his mind was blank. He had lost the ability to think. This was the consequence of looking directly at God - even if Tzeentch at this moment was actually just borrowing the key and briefly showing a partial form, even if He had no ill will towards him

But the wizard was not dead yet, the fact was just the opposite.

He was upgrading.

Tzeentch's face, which could hardly be called a 'face', slowly showed a smile. Countless dead had pulled out their teeth in the storm, and countless bloodshot eyes stared at the earth under the dark night sky, the wind rolled and the clouds spread, and the day and night alternated.

Such abstract things together formed His face, and He was smiling, and this smile could no longer be described in words.

"I say, you still have a chance, Serafax. Look here, look at this key, see? It can bring you some unexpected help, so it can also help you deal with some unexpected troubles-such as the great and lonely Sir Luther."

"He has persisted on Caliban for endless years, becoming the kind of hero he wanted to be, and also a threat. I respect him, but I respect you more, Serafax, what you are going to do is far greater than Sir Luther."

"At best, he just protected Lion El'Jonson, but what about you? If your plan comes true, what kind of glory can you bring to mankind?"

Tzeentch raised his hand-He didn't have such a thing, but He wanted it, so an arm appeared here. Slender and white, like jade, with nine fingers, full of rings.

This hand handed the silver key to the wizard.

"Upgrade, then sacrifice"

Tzeentch blinked.

"It has been like this since ancient times. In order to hold a spear, humans can stand upright, have a waist joint that can rotate greatly, and evolve a biological miracle of the thumb."

"They gave up something to get this precious throwing skill, and you are no exception, Serafax. So, sacrifice yourself for your great cause. I will give you the greatest tolerance. You only need to sacrifice one life to get my authority."

Nine fingers happily fiddled with the key, making it rotate faster. The wizard was speechless and looked at this scene with difficulty thinking. He had entered a state of dementia. But it didn't matter, because Tzeentch was not talking to him.

A few seconds later, the wizard suddenly raised his head, his neck swelled, and blue veins hugged, and then it suddenly split open - there was no blood or other things splashing. In fact, the two ends of the crack did not seem to have blood and flesh. The whole wound looked more like the dark abyss.

A face slowly emerged from it, pale, bloodless, and panting.

Serafax. Knight Captain, traitor of the Dark Angels, leader of the Ten Thousand Eyes.

Tzeentch looked at him with admiration.

"Who do you want me to sacrifice?" Serafax asked painfully.

Tzeentch immediately laughed - He did not answer, but Serafax had already got the answer. The pain intensified, and his face gradually slid from pale to a nearly transparent white, as if he was disappearing.

"No," Serafax said weakly.

"It's up to you, my child. Whether you refuse or not is entirely up to you. I won't make a choice for you, nor will I force you. Of course, you will say that this is a fatal temptation. I appear when you are weakest and most helpless, bringing a new turn."

"According to your understanding of me, this is undoubtedly a trap. And my behavior at this time is just to persuade you to jump into it, so that you can be smashed to pieces in the trap and bring me some joy - but, Serafax."

The Lord of Change disappeared on the spot. When He appeared again, the original form had disappeared, leaving only a mist, entangled with the silver key.

"Let me clear the fog for you"

The key continued to rotate, and the nine metal sections that were clearly separated but tightly connected suddenly jumped with a trace of electricity, dissipating around like a living thing.

They continued to transform, and in less than half a second, they completed the feat of ignoring rules and laws, turning from lightning into a genuine wooden door.

Its surface was smooth, and it looked as if it had just been waxed. The door handle was a pitch-black sphere, and a sky eagle inlaid with gold and silver was staring coldly at the key.

"If you complete the sacrifice, you will get a part of my authority."

Tzeentch warned solemnly, and there was no more joking or fun in his tone.

Serafax, who was still wrestling painfully with the wizard's skin, suddenly realized something in shock - Tzeentch was not lying at this time, he was telling the truth.

Because of this, His speaking speed became very slow, and every word seemed to be sticky and terrifying with blood.

"This part of authority is very complicated, and it is difficult for you to fully understand its greatness, but you can use it as you like without having to bear any price. After this part of power is in your hands, the first thing you have to do is The thing is to kill Luther."

"This matter is not simple, because this stubborn and stupid human being has spent countless time engraving his existence into every aspect of Caliban's history, from the past to the future, even in the darkest places, he And always protected Leon El'Jonson."

"Therefore, you need to kill him completely and once and for all, otherwise he will come back sooner or later. In order to do this, you have to cut off all the redundant branches on the timeline - which means you will enter it personally and experience Each layer of history is different.”

"It sounds like a hard-working job, right? But you don't need to worry. With my power, you can complete this preparation in an instant. If you succeed, then congratulations, you have completed the most important thing. With one step, you purified the timeline, leaving only the one you were born in."

"Now, you can kill Luther and replace him. You can shape Leon El'Jonson into the image of your imagination, the truly glorious and righteous King of Knights."

"He hates evil, has a righteous heart, and knows how to use people well. He will become the head of the Primarch, and those giant babies who lack love will obediently stay under his cloak and admire the glory of the crown. His father will truly make him He is regarded as the eldest son and the heir to the empire."

"The Great Crusade, under the command of the Lion, will end all cancers that threaten humanity once and for all, and so will the Empire's absurd institutions, which will be reformed from top to bottom."

"Leon El'Jonson will make Mankind and the Imperium great again, and the Dark Angels will never be broken, never betrayed, and always glorious."

The key turned and shook gently.

"I'm not lying to you, Serafax. I've never been more honest, and that virtue is taking its toll on me, and you have a choice to make."

The door shook, and bursts of golden light lit up behind the sky eagle. Suddenly, someone started knocking on the door.

"Serafax?" A young boy's voice sounded from behind the door, soft and heroic at the same time. "Are you awake? You promised me that you would teach me swordsmanship today."

The dark angel in the wizard's body vomited blood, tore open his skin and shackles, and stood naked in front of the door covered in blood.

Without hesitation he reached for the key.

"What do you want?" Dark Angel asked.

Tzeentch finally smiled again.

"All of it," He said with malice. "Try to please me and my sisters, Serafax, while you still can."