Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

Chapter 290 S.B.R.

"Uh..." Magnus read the psychic ripples they cast in the subspace, and deduce the whole incident from the mouths of the quarreling Space Marines.

To this day, he still finds it incredible that this could have happened. This was neither in line with his imagination of the Emperor's Children, nor with his impression of the Eighth Legion, or even with the habits of Konrad Curze, whom he didn't even know very well, but Perturabo was willing to give his deep trust to. Some ways of doing things are very different...

To correct one thing, if Sol Sahar, the company commander of the Night Ghost King's Court, did not lie, then the behavior of these warriors who were decorating their armor with little bats would be understandable. Justice, fairness, Magnus knew Konrad Curze hung them on Article Zero of the Legion's Code.

"Here's the thing," he said to Vulkan and Roger Dorn, who had just been dug out from under the floor, "we all know about that equestrian competition, right? It was when we first came here, most of Months ago, the game was announced at the foot of the snow-capped mountains of Taylor Falls?”

"Of course," Roger Dorn said, his tone was no different from when he played Caesar just now. Maybe his acting rule is to show a side of himself on the stage.

"The race schedule is now over halfway. For the first batch of riders, there is still about half a month left. Perturabo has calculated the entire process of this event very well. At the same time that all sports events are over, this The champion of this long cross-country equestrian race will surely win the trophy at the end of the race. At that time, we will leave separately, and the time when we can see each other again is not yet in any arrangement or plan..."

"Well, back to the subject, most of the players are located in the hills of the west, but there are also a small number of players who, due to various irresistible reasons, such as sudden illness, temporary injuries, people's acclimatization, or drinking directly from the mountains Due to abdominal discomfort caused by the spring water and food poisoning caused by collecting wild fruits from the mountains, I chose to withdraw from the competition.”

"Most of them chose to hand over their riding animals directly to the organizing committee of Olympia. Among these animals, there are Iron Warriors who are stationed in Olympia and are responsible for part of the preparations for this games in cooperation with Governor Califon. We first discovered that some of these large animals can even bear the weight of space warriors... Come this way, or should I take you to fly over?"

"No need." Vulcan politely refused and shook his head.

"Okay," Magnus said regretfully. "I continued to say that after asking Perturabo, some Space Marines on the ground were holding a small equestrian competition among themselves. To be more specific, they asked the Iron Warriors to ride a large animal in front. Fu Grim's Emperor's Son, my Thousand Dust Sun, and Conrad's Night Ghost King's Court each dispatched a few temporary athletes to chase after them."

"During this process, did Conrad's descendants discover anything unusual?" Vulcan asked.

Magnus blinked, trying his best to unfurl his furrowed brows. "Actually, it was Konrad Curze's strange mortal auxiliaries who told their Space Marines that they smelled something alarming from the Emperor's Children..."

"Smell?" Rogal Dorn repeated.

"Yes, Sons of the Muse - that's the name, right? They're not Space Wolves, why are they smelling..."

"They said that the Emperor's Son who participated in the competition, Telemanon, must have taken a dose of 'Splintermind.Booster.Remade' against the rules, which is a combination of some kind of alien spinal cord extract. Specialized dangerous agent of Space Marine blood protein."

"Telemanon Lylas denies the other party's slander. My warrior Iskandar Khayon is familiar with Telemanon, and as you know, we can feel the emotional radiance emanating from the etheric aura of those around us. , so he defended his angry friend. Sahar, the captain of the Night Ghost Court, seemed to trust their mortal army in this matter, even though they didn't seem to know each other for too long, didn't they?

"There was a conflict between them," Rogal Dorn said. "What does Perturabo think?"

"No matter how he decides to look at it, Perturabo is watching a duel at this time." Magnus lowered his voice. Even if this conflict does not need to be mentioned explicitly, he should know that the duel will not have any consequences. True and permanent physical harm, but the Red Primarch could not approve of such a thing happening.

"Is there no one to stop them?" Vulcan asked.

"Thinking from all angles, we can come to the conclusion that they should not have fought in the first place, without Conrad's support!"

Saul Sahar bowed his head to his master, completing the penultimate ritual before the duel. The firearm on his waist was carefully cared for and treated with utmost respect by the company commander.

It's called the Bite of Darkness. This exquisite and classic bolter has a certain dark and dark temperament like a rainy night. It was handmade by Konrad Coze himself.

It is true that Konrad Curze is not as skilled a craftsman as Vulkan, Ferrus Manus, and Perturabo, and is difficult to find in the entire galaxy, but any Primarch undoubtedly has the ability to create a A simple weapon.

He gave a bolt gun he made to the first heir who bowed to him. This was not only a supreme reward, but also one of the few he was willing to use as a template reference to reflect into the present in his observation of another fantasy world. One thing about the world.

Konrad Curze did not know how, on the uncut thread of fate, another him would personally forge weapons for his warriors. Maybe he was still sober enough at that time, sober enough to have the ability to yearn for a better destiny.

"Combat," said Perturabo, "is indeed a good way to resolve conflicts. But can you tell me why you want to promote a real battle? Isn't the Court of Narni enough for you to satisfy your desire for battle? needs?”

His words were calm, but deep in this unwavering calm, there was a deep-seated doubt.

For the Iron Lord, this is really not a rare emotion: every planet conquered by the Iron Warriors, every world that kneels to the empire in the majesty of the Iron Lord, is more or less. A taste of it, and the bitter consequences of going against it for the entire world.

But applying this sentiment to conversations with brothers is probably less common.

"This is not a battle," Konrad Curze hissed back, watching his captain step into the duel.

There were times when a Primarch's vast and complex thoughts were allowed to dwell on idiosyncratic matters while away from business.

For example, now, Konrad Coates couldn't help but wonder, if the gauntlets worn by his warriors were not hard ceramic steel shells, but soft white gloves, would he pursue a particularly classical etiquette and take off the gloves? down, contemptuously and solemnly thrown between him and the warrior on the opposite side.

"This is a duel," he finished his sentence softly.

Opposite the two of them, about a hundred meters away, Fulgrim was gently caring for his heir. Ferrus Manus was beside him, his silver eyes cold and calm.

The purple-robed phoenix spoke some dialects that only the locals of Chemos understood. It was undeniable that sometimes, each legion did use the language of their respective home planets as encrypted code words.

No matter what he said, Telemanon was not inspired. The handsome face of the swordsman who was good at wielding two swords and had the characteristics of the Emperor's Children was somewhat eclipsed at this time, and his bright eyes were not as penetrating and sharp as usual.

He still held his bolter and walked towards Saul Sahar.

It was morning, and the star of the Olympia Galaxy cast its light onto the earth at a suitable angle. The connection between the two Space Marines who are about to participate in the duel forms an equal angle with the sunlight, ensuring maximum fairness.

This time, a veteran of the Arvini clan from the 1st Company of the Iron Hands was in charge of presiding over the duel - the Iron Hands were well known for their pursuit of personal honor.

The two teams each dispatched a coordinator as a auxiliary person for the ceremony.

The Emperor's Children chose his friend Khayon, and the Nightghost commissioned a most normal-looking Son of the Muse - one with hair covering his ears, no strange growths on his body, and a masked face. The outline is also more in line with the definition of ordinary humans.

"The rules are very simple," the soldier said. "You use the guns in your hands to shoot at each other at a distance of 100 meters, 60 meters, 30 meters, and 10 meters. If someone falls down in the process, He will be sentenced to defeat. After the end, the Primarch Perturabo will evaluate the shooting accuracy of each of you. In the end, the one with the better shooting level will win."

Three bullets are naturally difficult to kill or even harm a healthy armored space warrior, so the rules of the duel have also been flexibly modified.

"First shot," the soldier said.

The two bullets were fired at the same time, met in the air, and passed by the hot wind rolled up by each other. No one dodges. The bolter left a dent in Thor Sahar's left shoulder plate, and Telemanon received one that struck him in the knee.

"I think he practiced his shooting skills," Conrad Curze said, "Oh, if each of them is given a gun, the Night Ghost Court will have the best shooting skills among the entire Space Marines."

Magnus, Vulkan and Rogal Dorn came from a short distance away. Judging from the speed at which they arrived, Magnus still took his brothers on a short flight.

Rogal Dorn walked to Perturabo and Konrad's side, and the first thing he said was "Don't underestimate the Iron Hands."

"You don't have time to order bolters for tens of thousands of warriors, my brother." Vulkan said, wanting to pat Konrad on the shoulder. The latter endured this move stiffly, and received an apology from Vulkan who suddenly understood.

"Second shot," the soldier announced.

One hundred and twenty meters apart, two bullets were fired from their respective muzzles. Telemanon changed his aiming target. This explosive bullet was pointed at the relatively weak belly armor. Sahar persistently shoots the opponent's knee again. The two impact points overlapped each other, leaving behind scorched black marks after the hot lava cooled.

They didn't stop for a moment because of being shot this time. They continued to take steps and approached each other straightly.

"There should be bruises." Magnus made his judgment. The master of supernatural abilities did not use any additional means to explore the true state of the two people on the field under the thick ceramic armor. This is unnecessary.

Perturabo nodded slightly, frowning, and acknowledged Magnus' assertion.

With the last step, the two Space Marines walked to a distance of 60 meters from each other at the same time. The auxiliary personnel around them also followed the two to approach, although there was nothing they needed to do.

"The third shot."

What was particularly coincidental was that this time, the two bullets happened to hit each other, exploding a cluster of brilliant and short sparks in the air, and the broken shrapnel splashed out and pierced into the soil on the ground.

This interesting coincidence did not cause anyone to smile except Conrad Curze in the serious atmosphere.

As for the Blood Marquis, he seemed to have gotten used to pulling one corner of his mouth upwards in various appropriate or inappropriate occasions, and using his dark eyes to take everything happening in the present into the depths of his heart.

The two warriors continued to approach, and the distance between them was enough for the grenade gun to cause real damage.

The warrior of the Iron Hands did not look away.

Except in rumors, they would caress their planes, tanks, or the bolters and chainswords in their hands affectionately from time to time, and pour out their feelings to these cold but charming steel machines. These warriors were not the type to show their emotions.

"The last shot."

At the moment when the tail of his words began to spread in the air, the bombs did not delay for a moment, and immediately rushed towards their targets with the sound of the trigger being pulled.

Telemanon raised his hand and looked at his pierced arm. The carefully decorated armor wrapped in fine silk was broken, and the bright red flowed from his palm.

Opposite him, Thor Sahar kissed the hot barrel of his bolter and the skull carved on it, and blood flowed from his side. When he lowered his hand and let the gun rest against his leg armor, his own blood flowed onto the barrel of the gun, cooling it in the blood that appeared voluntarily.

Two assistants immediately stepped forward, as if announcing the victory of both in advance, and held the arms of the duelists, of course, the one that was not injured.

Khayon seemed to want to say something, but he showed surprise and betrayal in Telemanon's whisper. His expression froze in anger, but he still walked to the center of the venue with the Emperor's Child.

Perturabo walked to the center and supervised the two warriors holding each other's hands after the duel.

"Your conflict ends here." The Primarch announced, "Do not mention it again. Do you understand?"

The warriors nodded in response.

"Okay," Perturabo said, "Now, I need to do an injury assessment for you."

Surrounded by other Astartes or Primarchs, the two naturally had no need to be shy. With the help of the Son of Muse, Sol Sahar's plastron was removed separately.

"This will not affect the battle, my lord." Night Ghost said.

"Good." Perturabo's eyes swept over his abdomen. "Go clean the wound. What about you?"

Teremanon nodded to Khayon. Then, the Thousand Dust Sun's small magic removed his arm and hand armor for him.

Perturabo exhaled softly. "Clean the blood." He said.

"I'll do it." Magnus stepped forward, and the blood evaporated under the ripples of red gold, leaving the Emperor's son's white skin.

Except for the indispensable neural interface, there were no more scars.

Perturabo immediately looked at Fulgrim, and the phoenix was walking towards his heir.

"Why are you doing this?" He sighed, "I don't need you to pursue perfection in this way."

Teremanon trembled under his father's gentle rebuke, and regret accumulated in his eyes. "Please punish me, I have brought shame to the glory of the Emperor's children."

"You did not feel that you had taken any additional alchemical potions, did you?"

Conrad Curze floated over like black smoke and appeared beside Perturabo. His words were light and low, carrying carefully designed malice.

"This is the special feature of the S.B.R. potion, my brother... While enhancing the temporary individual quality, it will also reduce the individual's subjective perception of it, thereby psychologically avoiding affecting the confidence and combat ability of the warrior."

"But, oh, do you know why it is still an alchemical potion that is forbidden to be used casually?"

The Blood Lord closed his eyes and counted the last three numbers.

"Three, two, one..."

Telemanon's eyes suddenly turned white, and in the instant of excruciating pain, consciousness immediately left his mind. He fell backwards on his back and was barely supported by Khayon.

Curze took out another syringe from his tool kit and threw it out. Khayon reached out to catch it: "Inject it, otherwise his genes will collapse within a day."

"You invented it?" Fulgrim's eyes twitched slightly. "Heartbreaking Potion?"

"Invention? This thing has a much older history than me, and why should I update an unusable piece of garbage?" Konrad Curze said lazily, "My subordinates are studying it. As for how this potion got into the hands of you Emperor's Children... I'm going to hold Hexaceris accountable. What about you, Fulgrim?"

Fulgrim's eyes turned cold. "I understand." The Primarch said.

"Okay." Curze stretched his arms, "By the way, your sports meeting will end in about a week, right? I just happened to deal with something else, something... really worth studying."