Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

After discussing the construction of the Wall of Tears, Angron and his compatriots began to discuss the new laws of Desia.

This part of the content may seem complicated and difficult to the parties involved, and it contains many balances between morality and rationality, creeds and compromises, but to onlookers - especially a person who has seen all kinds of human beings from simple to complex for tens of thousands of years. For those who have participated in several legal professional qualification examinations, the complex laws and regulations of the gladiators have little value in listening carefully.

Before Morse could yawn for the first time of the day, someone poked him slightly in the arm.

"Morse," Magnus's eyes were bright, and he was reactivated from his sluggish state by the new idea, "Are my descendants in Nuceria? I have an idea, I thought of a new topic! "

"Wow, another new topic." Morse said, "Is it related to green skins?"

"No," Magnus shook his head excitedly, "They are a disaster. After teaching Gothic, I will never care about them again!"

"So is it related to the lemon that was restored into a cherry tomato last time by the Mechanicus? No, I guess not." Morse said, "You can try it. I still have some understanding of your control over experimental safety. ”

——

Azak Ahriman was summoned to the Twelve-man Hall of the Iron-Blooded by his name announced by the whole ship, and learned that Rogal Dorn was alone with Perturabo again. He was mentally prepared for the experience he was about to encounter - just pretending not to see Rogal Dorn and Perturabo's new quarrel, and being on call for them. The referee who arrived will arrive and leave the field at the right time.

He put on his helmet in advance outside the designated hatch to hide his expression, shouted a report and entered the room.

The floor of the entire room has been replaced by sand. There is a wall on both sides of the floor that is not high. A large number of people gathered around a square iron table.

In the porthole with the reddish-brown Nuceria as the background, if the shadow of the black-clad craftsman appears here is reasonable, then the tall red shadow that relies on its white background with blue edges to distinguish it from the background color is completely beyond his expectation.

He instantly regretted why he had come here wearing a helmet, isolating his face from Magnus's rare gaze.

"Father," Ahriman said, "Lord Perturabo, Lord Rogal Dorn, Artisan Morse, Azhak Ahriman report."

Several Primarchs nodded to him and said nothing more. Even though they were just sitting around the round table, they were taller than Ahriman. There is also a gold skull ornament held up by the hand on the table, reflecting the cold luster of the material universe, and it has no function.

This solemn atmosphere, which Ahriman had not expected, began to make Ahriman's legs contract their muscles in the power armor uneasily.

Ahriman was pleased to see Harco, one of the Iron Warriors' first warsmiths, here - he had no personal connection with the overly dedicated and sometimes gruff officer, but there was another cousin of the Legion known for his stubborn determination. , his embarrassment was immediately shared by more than half.

Jaco solemnly laid the last row of bricks and bowed to Perturabo.

Perturabo pointed to the wall, which was about the height of a mortal man. He looked particularly unhappy today, and the shadows on several lines on his face were particularly thick, which also raised the pressure in the entire room: "Donne, this is your wall today."

Donne's expression was as unchanging as a carved stone sculpture: "Okay."

Perturabo moved his outstretched hand back and pressed his broad fingers to the top of the brick wall beside him: "This is my wall."

"Okay." Dawn said.

The craftsman in black tilted his head and looked forward with a smile on his face. In the projection, his hands were blocked by a pile of documents, so you couldn't see what he was doing, but from the movements of his arm muscles, you could feel that he seemed to be carrying something light and small, and he was shaking it around casually. .

"Ahriman?" Magnus pointed at him. The red giant's expression rarely highlighted the full majesty of the original body, and the downward corners of his mouth contained some dissatisfaction at being provoked.

Ahriman, who didn't understand what these emperor's sons were going to do in such a solemn atmosphere, immediately raised his head: "I'm here, father."

"How did you do with your etheric consciousness application comparison task?" Magnus asked.

Ahriman's heart tightened and he began to regret that he had wasted too much time in the Black Crow School's supine meditation and relaxation training.

"I still have some difficulties that need to be solved," Ahriman said. "I can understand the theoretical knowledge, but in practical application I have been encountering various trivial problems."

"I remember I told you three months ago that I hope you can finish this subject." Magnus said slightly reproachfully, and there was a flash of reflection on his monocle. "This is not a complex project."

"I'm very sorry, father." Ahriman said uneasily, trying to calculate in his mind how much progress he was missing. "I can... next month, I can finish this project."

"Nothing, Azhak Ahriman." Perturabo said, "Magnus will guide you to complete the experimental part of our new topic today."

"I understand your abilities," Magnus said. "You are the surrogate for the extension of my psychic power on the Iron-Blooded, so you can follow my theory to Rogge, who does not admit the truth without seeing the facts. Donne presents the results of my project.”

"You have presented me with a questionable theory, Magnus." Rogal Dorn was neither happy nor angry, and sometimes he was so calm that it was doubtful whether he really understood that human emotions can fluctuate greatly. "I cannot move forward with your construction plans without solid proof."

"Okay, father." Ahriman said bravely, and began to communicate with the ethereal ocean to prepare for the next task. "what do I need to do?"

"Oh, that's right." Morse took his hand out from behind the cover of the book, "Let me explain the matter as non-subjectively as possible. First of all, Angron, the Primarch of Nuceria, came from Taking inspiration from the Wailing Wall in Olympia, we decided to embed the slave owners into the local wall.”

"Your father Magnus had a flash of inspiration after learning about this. He used the multiple legends of the Wailing Wall itself that had been circulating in Olympia for a long time as a breakthrough point for conjecture, and proposed a theory that the souls of these slave owners can completely pass through a series of events after death. The filtering process truly achieves the purpose of being used as a ritual material, while also avoiding the potential adverse effects caused by the aggregation of negative emotional projections.”

"After Rogal Dorn heard this theory, he thought that since there was a danger, he would directly deal with the high-level riders harmlessly, such as executing them efficiently in batches, without leaving any hidden dangers, so that no building could suppress them. A supernatural story about a tragedy caused by worshiping an innocent soul on the foundation.”

"But our Perturabo insists on announcing that the bloody legend of the Wailing Wall in Olympia is completely a superstitious phenomenon of the ancient Olympians blindly believing in and worshiping some authoritative legends and gods and ghosts. Maybe there really was a construction site incident where human beings were sacrificed to buildings. But the horrific legends that followed were completely nonsense. In short, he supported Angron’s ruling on the high-ranking knights, but had reservations about your father’s plan.”

"Yes." Dorn said, easily becoming the first person to break the silent atmosphere at the scene - the war blacksmith Haco can't be counted, he has never been silent, he is just a cold iron pillar. "Whether or not such superstitions are true, we can avoid them."

"You are only leaving a greater hidden danger, Dorne." Perturabo immediately shot back. "You can't promise mortals a way to express their hatred and then take it back."

Magnus looked up from the simulated building on the sand table: "This is not superstition, this is a construction site sacrificial ritual recorded in countless classics. No matter what, we must try it, just to prevent similar crises in the future! "

"You are tempted by the practicality of such sacrifices, Magnus," Dorn said.

"Oh, I am tempted by the significance of the research itself." Magnus retorted, "Why should I be tempted by the practicality of construction site rituals?"

The two Primarchs looked at him together.

"Because engineering is the foundation of all great ideas," Perturabo said, Rogal Dorn nodding beside him.

Magnus tensed his shoulders at the sudden unified attack, and before he began to argue about the need to defend theoretical research, Morse yawned in an extraordinarily loud voice, ensuring that everyone was heard him.

"Does anyone still remember that you had a new brother waiting on the surface of Nuceria to get the building plans?" Morse said.

The three Primarchs looked at each other. "Remember," Dawn said.

Magnus glared at the two brothers indifferently, because one was completely denying his project, and the other unintentionally presupposed that his experiment was based on superstition when accusing Dorn.

The red giant looked at his heir. Only Ahriman, a wise and reliable man, could make him feel happy now.

"Ahriman, what I need you to do is to inject the purified residual soul energy into the wall at Perturabo's hand. Then Rogal Dorn and Perturabo will launch attacks on the opposite wall respectively to complete the comparison. . Now, listen to me."

The image of Morse looked on without saying a word, nodding slightly with a smile. His gaze does bring an inexplicable sense of security to those present, although Morse has yet to explain the means by which he will ensure that potential accidents do not occur.

Ahriman closed his eyes in obedience and handed over the guidance to Magnus.

"Ascend to the lower state of mind, focus on the will wrapped around you, and pursue the remnants of the powerful will that died in your hands. For the time being, we use this tiny simulation instead of the real dead resentful soul to complete a ritual."

Ahriman reluctantly detached himself from the powerful etheric aura of the Primarch present and concentrated more on his own spirituality.

As a prophet of the Black Crow School who serves as a legion communication warrior, and a rare space warrior among the Iron Warriors who is familiar with half of the Kumon system, the number of times he kills enemies with his own hands is not many, but the number of enemies he kills who have a strong will. less.

He maintains a state of connection with the ether and traces the remnants of the soul during death through the traces left by ritual concepts. This is a bit like finding a crystallization of the enemy's fragments and his own spiritual energy in the soul. .

It took some time, and it was a completely new endeavor for anyone here. Magnus was always patiently guiding his actions through words.

Soon after, some vague fragments of damaged souls that were about to dissipate finally gathered in his palm. He could vaguely feel the restlessness and high-pitched emotions remaining in these broken souls. After he told Magnus about this phenomenon, it was Morse who answered him.

"Don't touch it," said the craftsman, who seemed to know more than Magnus. "Don't try to filter it, it's beyond your capabilities. Direct it into the wall here."

Ahriman pushed the debris into the wall on Perturabo's side, and the wall, which was made of pure masonry and mortar, suddenly flashed with a crackling photoelectric effect. His genetic father calmly looked through the projection, but did not give the next instruction for a long time. His lips moved slightly, mentally calculating his next move.

"What's the problem?" Rogal Dorn asked, probably without hint of sarcasm.

"No problem, it's done." Morse leaned forward, his eyes sliding over a certain point in front of him, "Although all of you have forgotten that Azhak Ahriman last time killed a powerful man who was strong enough to leave the remnants of his consciousness. When and where the opponent is - including me, I actually forgot it before, which is really embarrassing, but we happen to be able to test another thing today. "

Perturabo snorted coldly, picked up the Astartes storm bolter on the ground, and after looking at each other with Dorn, they unanimously pointed the gun at the opposite wall. Ahriman was surprised and expected it. Under numb gaze, he began to empty the magazine against the opponent's wall.

After a well-coordinated and precise attack on the weak point of the wall, the two walls collapsed at the same time.

Perturabo finally added a little joy to his face: "I said that the ghost of the Wailing Wall that will never collapse is just a rumor from the old night. Human sacrifice on the construction site will not be effective without a complete set of rituals."

Behind him, Warsmith Harco seemed to stand straighter.

"But we have yet to verify the effects of the ritual." Dorn lowered the bolter to the ground.

"Yes, Dorn is right..." Magnus was mid-sentence when his eyes suddenly widened, and red dots of changing colors danced in his eyes. "It really works, look!"

The two Primarchs at the scene bowed their heads and approached dubiously at Magnus's confident tone.

On the ground paved with sand, a hazy and colorful image gradually emerged above the broken wall that had been injected with broken will. It seemed that some mysterious and magical energy entity was being reborn and was about to bring it to the world. Some kind of magical transformation.

"Is this really useful?" Perturabo asked in a low voice, leaning a little closer to the floating image, "Just for this simple..."

Suddenly, the energy entity condensed and collapsed into a green brain case. It opened its mouth with illusory teeth that radiated golden light and began to laugh. Perturabo was so shocked that he leaned back: "What!"

This afterimage, which did not contain much power, appeared for an instant and then dissipated immediately, leaving only the cheerful and savage screams that still echoed in the room, and the three Primarchs with their eyes wide open.

"Why the greenskins again!" Perturabo roared suddenly, as if he had accumulated wild anger against the greenskins in an unknown place.

And Magnus' originally uplifted spirit suddenly withered, and a dullness caused by a strong shock lingered on his copper-like and beautiful face, as if he had been deeply shocked by the green skin when no one knew about it.

"Oh." Dawn uttered a syllable. "It was that time."

"Yes, I..." Ahriman finally confirmed a fact that frightened him, "The last time I killed a powerful enough opponent, I might have been... following the Primarch Rogal Dorn to chase him outside Inwit. Green-skinned orcs..."

Magnus let out a low scream from his throat: "No, I'm experimenting on my own, Ahriman, disinfect this thing, now, immediately! Just pretend that what happened today didn't happen, brother We, whether it is a superstitious product of the construction site or a dangerous ancient witchcraft, when I come up with the results, it will not be green skin. Green skin has nothing to do with my future plans..."

"No, Magnus. I think there is someone here who is very interested in your new discovery." Morse said, turning on the camera on his desk. When the image turned to the opposite side of Morse, his vague smile and the direction of his eyes during this conversation were explained.

The Emperor of Mankind sat quietly in the golden chair, nodding slightly towards Magnus.

The moment he appeared, the two Astartes present knelt down at the same time, pure awe and emotion taking over their bodies and minds.

"Magnus and Perturabo stay," the Emperor said. "I need to discuss with you how to deal with some alien races after the cooperation ends. Rogal Dorn, lead the two Astartes to leave."

The extra volume "Reforged Blade" of Robert's Rebellion next door has also started to be translated. The translator still posted it under the same account, Type Moon x Hammer. You can support me more. Thank you.