40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 688 70. Belated Judgment (30)

Emotions that are difficult to describe in detail seized the heart of the Dark Angel.

He didn't know what these things were, and he had never experienced similar emotions, so he could only explain them with the concepts he had experienced before - so, was it fear? Or excitement, reverence, or the sum of all of these?

He couldn't come up with an answer, and his thoughts became confused. The agility and calmness he once possessed all ruthlessly abandoned him, leaving only a cold thought, floating among false neurons and a personality shaped by memory.

Crazy.

The Dark Angel trembled and knelt on the ground.

A ball of jumping fire was shining in front of him. The fire was so bright that he wished he would go blind right now. Extreme fear surged like waves from the depths of the unknown source and drowned him.

He was so scared that he couldn't help but look at the fire. At the same time, he was extremely worried, thinking that he might do something stupid - this is what people do when they are under great pressure, and he is no exception.

However, at the same time, he was still confused about it.

"Very good, it's right that you can't understand it."

The man in the flame said so, and cast a calm glance at him, which made his heart stop beating and filled with great fear. The Dark Angel tried to look away, but he soon realized that he couldn't do it at all.

Unless he allowed it. The Dark Angel almost begged.

He twitched and swallowed the blood that surged up: Unless you allow it.

"I allow it." The man in the flame said. "But you don't actually need my permission, Serafax of Caliban."

What? What does this mean?

The questions that followed one after another stabbed his heart deeply and cruelly, making it full of holes and bleeding with something sharper than any blade. Countless words were stuck in his throat and were about to come out, but the sound he could make with all his strength was just a few whimpers that sounded extremely ridiculous.

The Dark Angel understood why this was the case-the shock he received was too great. However, one thing needs to be made clear: even if he had been allowed, he did not look away.

He couldn't do it, no matter how hard he tried.

The flames danced, reflected in his eyes. Even the reflection was pure and perfect. It was difficult for the Dark Angel to associate this face with "humanity", but for some reason, he couldn't associate it with "God".

If you want to find out the reason, it's probably because this dark face lacks the majesty, hugeness, gloomy and oppressive things that gods have. He looked at the Dark Angel's appearance, just like an ordinary person looking at another ordinary person.

Involuntarily, the Dark Angel calmed down little by little.

The man in the flames nodded slightly to him, as if to express approval, and then he walked out of the flames.

The Dark Angel didn't know how to describe this scene to himself for a moment, even though he saw it clearly. He knew that the man was wearing a robe, wearing sandals, had a pair of rough hands and calm eyes - but what else?

Could anyone really believe that this was what the Emperor looked like? Could it be that anyone really thinks that the Emperor of mankind is just such an ordinary person?

Even he himself, who had seen all this with his own eyes, found it unbelievable.

"No matter how you look forward to it, the Emperor is a fabricated image."

The man spoke calmly, his voice loud and reverberating in the space here.

"People can believe in him, worship him, paint pictures and statues of him, talk about him in the tone of God, and claim that he gave them power. But, in the final analysis, who has really seen him?"

"What do you think he looks like, Serafax? Do you think he should be wrapped in gold and endless glory, extremely majestic, and use the power that others cannot resist to oppress people to bow their heads, bend over, kneel down and then surrender?"

He walked in front of the Dark Angel, stretched out his right hand, and pierced the Dark Angel's shoulder like a knife. The power that was far hotter than the flame roared furiously, rushing in his blood vessels instead of blood, causing him to kneel down in great pain and unable to control himself.

"No, that's just the Emperor in your heart." The god pronounced mercilessly. "You came here to see a statue of your imagination, to worship him, and vent your regret and pain."

The blood and tears born of pain flowed from his eyes. The dark angel barely raised his head and looked at the man, but found that he could not see his face clearly. Now, he could only see a ruthless outline in the dazzling light.

"Now, are you satisfied?" The god asked calmly. "Is this what you want, Serafax? To be forced to kneel down by a power far higher and superior to you, and then repent, cry until you can't help yourself, and finally win a peaceful death?"

No.

The dark angel trembled and opened his mouth. He wanted to speak, but he felt that his internal organs were about to flow out of his throat. He had to close his mouth, but still firmly expressed the monosyllabic rejection in his heart.

Then the light went out, the god disappeared, and only a tired man was left standing there, his eyes full of grief.

Instinctively, the dark angel asked in his heart: Why are you so sad?

The man smiled - a smile mixed with anger.

"My son is dead, murdered. My other son risked his life to save him, and nearly became a sacrifice. My friend came to his aid, and again suffered a great price. These are the reasons, Serafax of Caliban."

The father and friend rolled his eyes with unparalleled anger, staring at the Dark Angel's face, and his hatred penetrated deep into it, reaching the heart of the Dark Angel.

"I really want to kill you now."

The man who was not the Emperor and the Lord whispered in the tone and emotion of ordinary people. However, as soon as the voice fell, he loosened his hand and took a step back.

The light went out, and the flames were still there, but they were no longer as terrifying as before. The Dark Angel gasped hard and wanted to stand up, but he couldn't help falling to the ground.

So he simply knelt down, opened his hands, and looked at the man with a dying mentality. He knew that his master was not talking to him just now, but he was willing to die for it.

"No." The man refused calmly. "The guilty person is not you, but the one hiding in your heart. He is smart and knows how to shape you to let you experience all these sufferings instead of him."

".But, but I--" The Dark Angel was finally able to speak, his voice as thin as a mosquito. "-I am him, my Lord."

"You are the one in the past." The man said. "A sacrifice who dedicated everything to the Great Crusade, a warrior who wielded the sword and endured pain for humanity, you are not yet the traitor who is sinking into nothingness and madness and falling infinitely downward."

What's the difference? The Dark Angel thought painfully and fearfully. I am him, my Lord, I know what he has done, I deserve to die

"And this is his cunning."

What?

"He shaped you, Serafax of Caliban, don't you understand? You are not the nothingness and fantasy you know, you are a living person, otherwise you would have been annihilated the moment you saw me."

At this moment, the Emperor's voice finally sounded like himself-or rather, like the self described by others.

The voice was like thunder, the words were like lightning, and each syllable contained great power that went straight to the heart, uncovering the festering wounds and rotten flesh, and destroying all the filth inside.

The Dark Angel was pale, staggering and falling, retching.

And the Emperor continued, he was always like this, cold and fair, no wonder people had portrayed him as a scale in one hand and a sword in the other.

"How did he tell you the so-called truth in his mouth, and how did he promise you, Serafax? Did he tell you that he had a way to reverse the tragedy and change what had happened?"

"I think he must have said that, right? He told you that he had a solution, but he didn't say a word about how to implement it. He asked you to come to Terra, asked you to find me, but he didn't say what would happen after you found me."

The flames broke out, and it was difficult for the Dark Angel to accurately describe his feelings at the moment.

He only felt the endless light and heat rushing towards him, almost like facing a nuclear bomb explosion. So he closed his eyes, ready to face the judgment, but he did not feel any pain. He opened his eyes in confusion and bewilderment, and saw a gem in the flickering firelight.

To be fair, it did not look like such a precious jewel. However, at the first sight of it, the only word in the Dark Angel's mind was this.

It was like a miracle, he seemed to suddenly recognize the stone floating in the flames, even though its surface was rough and angular, just like the cold stone on the roadside

A hand gently held it and took it out of the light and heat.

"In the past, there was a man named Cassidorius Delcunas who traveled as a messenger. At first, he thought he was serving me, and this perception has not changed for hundreds of years."

"He thought that I was giving him the strength to travel long distances through ancient lands, draw swords to face the evil spirits of the past, and even to complete the history of mankind. But he was wrong. I didn't give him any power, and I couldn't give him anything."

"On the contrary, it was he who brought hope and courage back to me, so that I had the strength to face endless horrors. He once thought I was the only hero, the glorious savior who could lead and save mankind, until he saw others with his own eyes."

The Emperor held the gem in his hand and turned slowly.

"Until then, my messenger understood where the power of mankind came from. Now it's your turn, Seraphax of Caliban, tell me, do you have the courage?"

He reached out and handed the gem to the Dark Angel. It lay quietly in that broad and rough hand, without any magical features, so simple that it was surprising.

I do, my Lord.

"Then hold it, Knight Captain of the Dark Angels, my Astartes." The Emperor said calmly. "Prove it to yourself."

The old name rolled up a storm of memory, bringing the Dark Angel back to that glorious era in an instant. He understood that this was the Emperor's conspiracy, which was intended to require him to reach out and hold the gem as he said.

But why shouldn't he obey? This was an open conspiracy, but it was also encouragement and recognition.

I am a Dark Angel. Serafax of Caliban thought.

He stretched out his hand.

The moment before his fingers touched it, another voice - the voice of the Chaos Sorcerer - suddenly sounded, telling him with a roaring volume not to do this, otherwise everything would fail.

There is no time in the world of thought. He spoke for a long time, but the time in the real world has not started to flow. The Dark Angel began to ask the reason very calmly, but the wizard did not answer. He still tried every means to persuade him to stop.

He appealed to his emotions and reason, and kept telling him how difficult it was for him to get to where he is today. His voice sounded so credible and reliable. He told him again and again how much help it would be to mankind if this plan succeeded.

But how many people died for this?

Listening to his words, the Dark Angel sincerely raised this question in his heart.

Their deaths were all worth it!

Listening to this, the Dark Angel almost had an inappropriate urge to laugh, and really turned it into words and threw it out-well, whatever you say, but it was actually you who shaped me, wasn't it?

I am just the incarnation of a part of your past. All I have is the first hundred years of your life. Compared with the years you have lived, how small are my hundred years? You are the one who truly controls the overall situation and holds the power.

So, if you want to stop me, then show up.

The wizard did not answer this sentence, but his always mysterious mind finally opened up to the Dark Angel for a moment, revealing some thoughts: I can't, if I face him directly, I will die immediately.

This sentence is so direct, but the most obvious emotion hidden in it is regret. The wizard soon realized that his thoughts were being read, but it was too late. The two completely different people began to clash in the world of thought.

All the things that he had carefully hidden came to the surface, like a dead body that finally saw the light of day. The Dark Angel carefully felt the details, plans, killings, and seeking, and the most critical point.

The death of Lion El'Jonson.

How dare you——? !

The soul that suddenly became furious instantly tore open this confrontation, driving the wizard's current body in the material world, and grasped the gem.

The flames ignited, burning an old phantom to ashes, and the ugliness underneath was fully revealed.

The Chaos Wizard who pursued the Way of Change and whose hands were stained with countless blood stood silently before the Emperor.

A loud laugh came slowly from a very far place.

"Too clever is too clever."