40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 692 74. Resurrection (3)

Sometimes, Bjorn misses the Ultramarines - sounds incredible, doesn't it? But he wasn't joking, and even by joking standards, it wasn't funny at all for a son of Russ to miss the Ultramarines.

So Azek Ahriman knew that he meant it.

"They are used to setting the same standard and using countless such standards to quantify everything. I didn't like this in the past, old blind man, but I must admit now that their actions are not unreasonable."

Amidst the biting cold wind and the strong smell of blood, the lone wolf said these words expressionlessly. The blind man stood behind him, leaning on his cane and standing straight, with the same expressionless face.

Sixty-five rune priests were drawing formations not far in front of them and preparing for the ceremony. Even Ornn Badwinter joined in, busy checking for gaps. He was not very proficient in ritual matters in the past, but the power of time was too ruthless.

"However, in the world of psychic energy and magic, rationality and standards are not important." The blind man said cautiously.

"That's better than watching these people curse each other over different patterns!" Bjorn roared. "I would rather go and argue with the logistics department all day on behalf of the wolf pack than watch them here yelling like they are selling vegetables, arguing about the position of a line to the point where they are about to fight!"

Ahriman shook his head and for the first time once again used the academic tone used by the Thousand Sons in the past.

"The inheritance method of Rune Priests is a less standard apprenticeship system. Young talented people will learn and grow under the hands of old priests according to the different fighting styles of each Dalian company. Only those who are particularly talented will Only then can they officially start teaching. In other words, they usually cast spells based on their feelings, and everyone's feelings are different."

Bjorn glanced at him sideways, suddenly put his arm on his shoulder maliciously, and said in a low voice: "I said, the blind man——"

"——No." Ahriman said, turning around and elbowing Bjorn without hesitation, causing him to cover his heart and grin.

"I haven't said anything yet!"

"And I said, no." Ahriman shook his head. "No matter what you say, I won't get involved."

"Why?"

"Because this is an exorcism ceremony." The blind man gripped his cane especially seriously. "And the fact that it's located in Fenris means that any slight disturbance could cause a huge change in its properties."

"Can't you get even a little guidance and help from the Thousand Sons?" Bjorn asked seemingly unwillingly, with a very intriguing tone.

The blind man raised his hand and raised his cane above his head, his expression becoming unreadable. The lone wolf laughed and quickly took a few steps back, away from the ceremony venue.

After just a few steps, he ran into a small group of wild wolves and an Astartes who was half escorted and half guarded by them in the center of the group. The latter's face was pale and he walked unsteadily.

He was wearing a fur cloak that obviously came from a wolf pack, and his lower body was randomly covered with a pair of thick trousers and a pair of thick-soled boots. His chest and abdomen wrapped with bloody bandages were exposed to the terrifying low temperature.

This is certainly not good news for his injury, and he is not a Fenrisian and does not know how to breathe in this world - just look at the wolves around him and his face. clear.

The wolves barely exhaled any white mist when breathing, and this person's mouth and nose were already covered with white frost.

"Lone Wolf," a voice called to him in a growling voice. "He insisted on coming to see you."

Bjorn said nothing and only responded with gestures. After a few back and forth, the escorts hammered his breastplate, nodded, and turned to leave.

He looked expressionlessly at the injured man, who stood there with a strong posture, his muscles stiffened by the supernatural cold in Fenris, but he still tried to raise his hand to perform the Aquila Salute.

His stubbornness made Bjorn almost laugh.

The lone wolf shook his head and cursed.

"Follow me."

He turned around and strode towards a cave at the edge of the ceremony site. Its entrance is covered with a special luminous moss, which protects the interior from acquired light sources. At the same time, these special moss can also lock in temperature.

The injured man limped into the cave and immediately felt the specialness inside - the sudden rise in temperature made him sigh uncontrollably.

"Russ said that you, like me, are an old antique from the legion era. I was a little bit unconvinced at first, but when I saw your stubborn look," Bjorn shrugged. "Well, welcome to Fenris in the 40th Millennium, veteran of the Legion."

The injured man looked at him confused and wary, and then said: "You too?"

"Bjorn."

The injured person was obviously stunned for a moment, and it was not until a few seconds later that his confused mind transferred what he knew about the name into his consciousness. Then, the injured person let out a confused sound. .

He knew nothing about the name.

Bjorn raised his eyebrows quickly, looking a little surprised.

"Which corner did you live in before, my friend?" The lone wolf finally couldn't help laughing. "You haven't heard of me? Well, I don't want to be proud of this or boast about anything, but the empire has been pulling out old people like us for thousands of years to use as typical propaganda. You won't be like you Just like those old brothers, they also went to farm, right?"

"Old brother? Farming?" The injured man looked at him in astonishment.

"You don't even know this?" Bjorn became more and more surprised. "When they were found by the lion, they almost took the local people to farm for self-sufficiency."

"I'm afraid I know nothing about the things you're talking about, Chief Bjorn." The injured man spoke reluctantly, his expression still hovering between vigilance and confusion.

"Then where have you been for these ten thousand years?" Bjorn asked.

Hearing this, Zabriel let out a long sigh. He covered the wound and leaned against the wall tiredly. The temperature in the cave made his face a little red, but overall he still didn't look like a living person.

"I was captured by an alien." Zabriel said briefly and directly. "It seems to take pleasure in collecting us. Many people, like me, were attacked and taken away by it without knowing anything. They spent these ten thousand years in the stasis field without knowing anything. Time. So I really don’t know who you are, Chief Bjorn.”

"It doesn't matter." Lone Wolf waved his hand indifferently. "As for the alien... Well, well, let's not mention it for now. Let's talk about you, veteran. Do you know what you were attacked by?"

"Armored vehicle?" Zabriel asked.

Bjorn chuckled: "That's a good answer, but we call that thing Hur-Hal - translated into High Gothic, it means the monster in the snowstorm. You are really unlucky to run into this kind of thing." Beast. And you won it, awesome, veteran.”

"Anyway, let's get back to the topic. You are still a seriously injured person. Logically speaking, I should knock you unconscious and throw you back, but I guess there is no way you can lie down and have a good rest, right?"

Zabriel responded with a wordless silence, and Bjorn saw his reaction clearly, so he was not surprised.

"Did Ruth tell you that we were going to perform an exorcism ceremony?"

"Yes, he did." Zabriel replied in a low voice. "Also, can you tell me where he is now?"

"He returned to his father."

".I'm sorry."

"There is nothing to be sorry for. He will come back. Now let's talk about why you are standing here - the lion is dead, do you understand?"

Zabriel took a deep breath and then managed to control himself. He replied hoarsely: "I understand."

"But he is a Primarch and one of the sons of the All-Father. His lifeline cannot be cut off simply here." Bjorn shook his head. "Okay, that's all I can say. Now button up that cloak and follow me."

As soon as he finished speaking, he strode out of the cave. The cold wind howled, and gray-white snowflakes fell from the sky like ashes left after something was burned.

Zabriel was prepared to resist the cold, but he didn't expect that the feeling caused by the falling snowflakes on his face would be burning pain. He was stunned, and this was just the beginning.

The burning pain easily awakened his senses that had been dulled by his injuries, forcing him to smell the pungent herbal scent escaping in the air.

Zabriel couldn't distinguish the specific components, but he could clearly sense the power contained in it - maybe he had dealt with things like psychic energy and subspace too many times before, and he actually heard the wind. A few whispers from

He couldn't understand the Fenrisian dialect with a strong accent, but he could directly understand its meaning.

Bjorn hummed just right, the ancient language blooming hoarsely from his voice. The melody is obviously soft and sad, but the pauses between the words are filled with anger and the urge to kill.

"The stars shift, the storm howls, the axes are polished, the shields are oiled, and the fury is called out in the winter morning. By blood, we will enter the realm of death, and we will remove from the dust those who have passed away. Lifted from the bones."

He only sang this part, as if he were just beginning, and a low howl could be heard from behind the curtain of gray-white snowflakes. Every sound was like a war cry, every word like the roar of a war drum.

Zabriel's remaining heart began to beat rapidly, and he couldn't control it, and his blood surged rapidly.

But Bjorn actually pulled out the battle ax from his waist.

Snowflakes rushed towards his face, and the lone wolf swung his ax as usual. The rune-engraved blade cruelly tore at the increasingly thick snow curtain. The sound between the steel and the snowflakes was as dull as chopping. flesh.

"What is this?!" Zabriel asked loudly, but his voice was still suppressed by the cold wind.

"Exorcism," Bjorn replied in a low voice.

What he said seemed to be true. Although none of the runes on his ax blade lit up, the muffled sound made when chopping flesh was uninterrupted. The road under their feet was getting grayer and thicker, with snow piled up in every corner that could be seen by the naked eye. It felt like stepping on a corpse.

Zabriel's back was filled with chills.

It is true that he has experienced many unspeakable horrors, but those are different from the current situation. At least he believes that Fenris should be different from those places - he never expected that there would be such a thing on the home planet of the Sixth Legion. Weird things like this can also happen.

And the fact is the fact, the ceremony has begun.

The strong scent of incense quickly rushed into Zabriel's nostrils as Bjorn split the last snow curtain.

In an instant, his sense of smell felt as if he had experienced a missile attack. The indescribably complex smell deeply stung his brain and forced his already somewhat confused mind to quickly regain clarity.

Zabriel looked closely and found that there was a deep pit in front of him. A dark stone platform stood in the center, and the body of Lion El'Jonson, wrapped in Hur-Hal fur, lay quietly on it.

Many white figures circled around him. They all wore masks, either made of bone or wood, with ancient styles, painted with terrible patterns and dark red like blood.

A dreadnought stood at the end of the deep pit. The pale searchlight pierced the snow curtain and shone in front of Bjorn and Zabril, forming a path that was neither wide nor narrow. The singing echoed without interruption, and the cold wind was biting, as if in hell.

"How does this ceremony go on?" Zabril couldn't help asking.

Bjorn didn't answer, but just stretched out his hand and pointed to his side. The dark angel looked back and saw a lame man with a cane. The man's dress and appearance were no different from the wolf, all covered with ornaments, knots and fur, but his face made Zabril stunned.

"Azek Ahriman." The lame man nodded to him and introduced himself. "It seems that you have seen me before."

"He used to be more famous than me - by the way, he is blind." Bjorn whispered in his ear with ill intent. "And he happens to be your attending physician."

"I am just blind, that doesn't mean I can't really see anything." The lame man slowly retorted. "As for now, let's get back to the point. The key to this ritual is to expel the evil power that permeates the lion's corpse, Zabril of the First Legion."

"Your primarch bled dry, and something tried to take advantage of this moment. Although it failed, it also left its power. We have to drive out what it left behind and let the lion regain its human identity."

Zabriel was confused and had no idea what these professional knowledge were describing. Azek Ahriman's words sounded like a riddle to him, but he was very good at catching the key points.

"What happens after that?" The Dark Angel asked hopefully.

Ahriman did not answer his question immediately, but took out a black cloth from his bosom and tied it around his eyes. This unnecessary move should have caused Bjorn to laugh at him, but the Lone Wolf did not do so. Instead, he closed his eyes like him.

A ray of light bloomed before their eyes, and then quickly expanded, burning fiercely, penetrating the sky and the earth, more blazing than the sun.

A voice slowly reached their ears.

"Tell him that Lion El'Jonson will return."