Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

Chapter 74 The Killing Joke

Zhuang Sen stroked the armor on his left arm, his expression as gloomy and terrifying as the deep forest after a heavy rain.

The symbol of the sword and wings of the First Legion has been completely torn by an overly obvious scar, just like a goshawk roughly scratched the metal wound with its sharp claws, triumphantly Showing off his successful blow.

This is the only crack on the black armor of the Primarch, and the rest is nothing more than some dark scratches, and only scattered paint spots have been lost, but it is this whitish trace that is visible on the pure black armor. It looks extremely dazzling, making it easy for anyone to observe it at first glance.

White within black is even more eye-catching and eye-catching than black within white.

The Primarch of the First Legion kept observing this rough crack, and his eyes became increasingly gloomy, even when he saw the mortal: her appearance now looked extremely miserable, from the corner of her mouth Even when his earlobes were dripping with blood caused by psychic overload, his low gaze did not have any sense of victory.

Zhuang Sen was sure that at that moment, he did not let down his guard.

When he warned the somewhat offended mortal and started another round of training, he never relaxed his vigilance for even a moment, nor did he abandon any method sufficient to win: except directly placing the sword across the mortal. on the neck.

But despite this, even though he was trying his best to dodge and sense, the net that Morgan weaved with spiritual energy still gradually shrank and squeezed his activity space, until the spiritual energy condensed by a cluster of firelight The sharp edge finally fixed the location of the Primarch, leaving a wound that almost shattered the entire Seiko Power Armor shoulder armor.

Zhuang Sen recalled that moment carefully, took the trouble to take it apart, kneaded it bit by bit, and analyzed it inch by inch, but in the end, he came to that conclusion.

Under those conditions, he really had no means to escape unscathed.

Either rush into that airtight psychic net, or under the threat of that psychic impact, use the most defensive shoulder armor to resist the blow, leaving the possibility to the equipment instead of own strength.

The speed and reaction that the Primarch was so proud of actually showed a different kind of paleness and powerlessness in front of the web of thorns woven with psychic energy.

At that second, it seemed like a dead end.

After coming to this conclusion, the Primarch's expression became increasingly gloomy.

Although for the past two Terran Standard Hours, he had wandered through a dragnet capable of destroying thousands of Astartes warriors, even though he had countless opportunities every minute to erase Morgan's beautiful white neck and He considered himself the absolute winner, but just this unavoidable moment was enough to make all Zhuang Sen's arrogance and sense of victory disappear.

He even thought he had lost, on some level.

This made his aura even somewhat dangerous and scary.

But Jonson was not obsessed with this. He was not Perturabo. He would not get angry just because he stepped in a puddle after a moderate rain and splashed mud. The Primarch swallowed himself quite rationally. small failures and start thinking about the things that really matter.

The Primarch raised his head and glanced around. At this time, the arena was completely in ruins. The aftershocks of psychic energy, the waves of sword energy, and even the violent breath of the Primarch himself had erupted in the past two Terran standards. This pitiful space was ravaged back and forth, and the anti-psionic devices used for fixation and maintenance had long been shattered to pieces. Sound waves and air waves echoed in countless corridors and rooms, attracting countless dark angels' glances.

But even so, Zhuangson still found an area that was still intact, which was an audience seat on the edge of the arena that could still accommodate people.

He walked over, stretched out his hand, smoothed the ashes and gravel on it, and then pointed, motioning for Morgan to come over.

The silver-haired mortal female official had obviously spent too much energy in the training just now. She walked with difficulty, her footsteps dragging on the ground. Freshly dried blood could be seen from her eye sockets, the corners of her mouth and the shells of her ears. That was The result of over-squeezing psychic energy.

Compared with the glamorous appearance before, Morgan can be said to be a little disheveled now.

She was originally wearing a light silver-grey knee-length windbreaker with tight waistband and easy pleats, paired with white trousers and the same pure black riding boots, and a navy blue scarf on her pale neck. It was wrapped slightly carelessly, and only a few hints of snow greasy could be seen vaguely.

Morgan even carries a pair of sunglasses in the pocket of his trench coat, just in case.

And all of this happened two Terran Standard Times ago.

The folds that were once specially arranged on the sleeves and waist of the windbreaker have been completely disrupted. The collar is now dotted with drops of dark red blood, which is completely dirty, and the corner of the scarf has also been stained by unknown sources of air. The waves were cut away alive without a trace, and now they were lying limply on the chest, like a poisonous snake with its head cut off.

Jonson will indeed not win this training by pointing his sword at Morgan, but this does not mean that one or two of his countless sword lights will not pass by: how to interfere with the spellcasting of psykers has always been [ Killing Psykers] is an important research project in this discipline. The Primarch is obviously well versed in this. Just a seemingly random swipe is enough to turn Morgan's strangulation formation into a ridiculous flaw in an instant. object.

At first, Jonson was just quiet, but after a few minutes, after realizing that Morgan's figure still looked a bit far away from the seat, the Primarch simply walked over, grabbed one of Morgan's arms, and pulled her away. He lifted it in the air, took a few big steps, and pressed it on the seat.

Morgan felt a slight tearing pain in her shoulder. She turned her head slightly and saw that Zhuangson's other hand was still holding his big sword tightly.

The Primarch stood before her, like a majestic mountain casting endless shadows.

He pointed at the scars on his shoulder armor, showing no sign of reluctance to face it.

"Is such an attack an accident or the result of careful calculations?"

Jonson's question came, but Morgan just pursed his lips and showed a smile.

She did not answer immediately, but just lowered her head slightly, breathed slowly, and adjusted her breath until Zhuang Sen's frown deepened.

[Both, Your Excellency. 】

This answer did not relax the Primarch's frown at all.

"Stop riddles and speak clearly."

[I make it very clear, Your Excellency, it is both. 】

[You can say it was accidental, because this is my first time to use such a step-by-step strangulation snare, and the effect it will have is unpredictable. 】

【but……】

She breathed heavily again, and the Primarch's eyes moved slightly with her breath and tone.

[This is bound to happen, because when you choose such a training venue, it is destined that I will only choose this unfamiliar method, because this is the only way I can fight against you here. 】

Jonson raised his head.

He heard the undertones.

"You didn't use your full strength."

Morgan slowly raised his finger and tapped the blood at the corner of his eye. Zhuang Sen looked at the scarlet trickles on the pale cheeks and the smile.

His face was tense.

[These blood stains, Your Excellency, they appear because I am suppressing my spiritual power, not because I am overloading my power. 】

As soon as he finished speaking, an icy cyclone exploded around the Primarch, turning into waves of violent storms that were enough to chill the soul.

"I ordered you... to use all your strength."

[Yes, Your Excellency, you ordered it. 】

"But you're disobeying that order."

[No, Sir, I did not violate it. 】

She was still laughing, even though Jonson's sword looked like it was going to kiss her neck the next second.

"This time, you can explain."

[If you really want my full strength, then things will go badly. 】

Morgan tilted his head and leaned back, exuding an aura of fatigue and laziness.

[Of course I can try my best to let every ounce of my strength burst out in the battle, but the consequences of this are unimaginable. At the very least, the Invincible Reason cannot survive such an explosion. Its reactor will My psychic scream exploded, sucking the entire battleship into the rift in the void along with thousands of Dark Angels. 】

[Please don't underestimate the desperate struggle of an aph, and don't overestimate those anti-psionic devices. If they really work, psykers won't become a nightmare. 】

[I did carry out your order, Your Excellency. 】

[I did try my best within the limits allowed by the situation. 】

Zhuang Sen lowered his head, his green pupils covered by long golden hair, and the sword blade made a harsh friction sound on the metal ruins floor.

"Next time, tell me before you start and don't be too clever."

"I only tolerate it once."

[Of course, Your Excellency. 】

Morgan straightened her back again and nodded meekly. This time, she was serious.

Just like Jonson is also serious.

The Primarch was silent for another moment, as if waiting for Morgan to rest.

"Now……"

"Tell me your [full strength]."

[As ordered, Your Excellency. 】

——————

[Have you ever thought about how, specifically, psykers are better than sword-wielding Astartes warriors in a real battle? 】

【strength? In fact, this is not that important. In a duel, the force enough to cut off the enemy's neck is more than enough. Although more force is not a bad thing, it will not have any essential impact on a duel. . 】

【Focus? In this aspect, it is even possible that psykers are at a greater disadvantage. The whispers in the warp have been tormenting everyone involved in psychic powers. In fact, a psyker who can fully concentrate is almost a pseudo. proposition, unless he has decided to die. 】

【defense? This is actually not easy to judge. If it is an Astartes and a psyker dueling, then in the face of the power of explosive bombs and lightning, both of them are actually like weak and defenseless babies. The so-called defense It won't have that much effect. Of course, psykers can maintain a protective shield at any time, but it is nothing but a bubble in front of your big sword. 】

[Unless, another factor is added. 】

[Yes, speed. 】

[As long as you are fast enough, a psyker can kill an Astartes in a hundred ways, whether it's shattering everything in the armor with lightning, letting fire end the suspense of the duel, or building up a thick The barrier puts oneself within absolute protection. 】

[Similarly, as long as the speed is fast enough, even a rusty dagger can end an alphaph. 】

[In terms of speed, top-level psykers have a natural advantage over Astartes. A truly powerful psyker does not need spells. One of his thoughts is enough to accomplish everything he wants, while a warrior's No matter how fast and quick his reaction is, he still has to complete at least two steps from thinking to drawing the sword. The time gap of just one thought is fatal. 】

[In addition, it is said that the reaction speed of Astartes warriors is as fast as milliseconds... Anyway, I didn't see it. 】

[But speed is not everything. If you are close enough, a quick sprint will be enough to end everything before the game starts. Therefore, in addition to those psykers in the biochemical system, real psykers will also care about speed. the second factor above. 】

【distance. 】

[At this point, there is no doubt that psykers also have advantages, even absolute advantages. No one says that a duel must resolve everything in a few meters square. Psychics can hide at a safe distance, in front of warriors. End it all before you rush over. 】

[So, what would a truly powerful psyker with full power look like? 】

[It is a psyker who has opened enough distance and has enough space to move. Like this, fighting a psyker in an arena several hundred meters wide is like climbing to the eagle's lair. This is not a challenge, but a reward. 】

[If you really want to see my full strength, then you should arrange the training location in a world, Your Excellency. You will know by then. 】

[There are many ways I can try to kill you completely. 】

——————

Kill.

The word lingered in the corner of Morgan's mouth, turned into a wisp of smoke, and slowly dissipated in the dead air.

Jonson raised his head slightly. He caught this syllable keenly and seemed to enjoy it quite a bit.

"Kill me?"

[Yes, kill you. 】

[Like a real life and death battle. 】

[I can directly tear open a rift and drop you into it. 】

[Or you can let the strong wind and metal converge into a real cage, which will take you high into the sky and throw you down, turning you into a fiery red meteor. 】

[Or, the simplest way, I can directly tear a crack in the subspace and let you get involved in the turbulence of time and space. When you come out of the irregular subspace, Maybe the so-called human race has not appeared. 】

[In short, for psykers, death does not mean simply the head falling to the ground and blood flowing freely. That would be too unartistic. 】

As he spoke, Morgan raised his head.

Then, she noticed that Zhuang Sen was smiling, a smile with slightly raised corners but no teeth.

Jonson's smile was even more terrifying than Jonson's anger.

"Can you do all this?"

[Time, means, luck, and some necessary delaying methods, such as traps and dead soldiers, are all indispensable. After all, psykers are not real gods, and they still have to be exposed to some fireworks occasionally. 】

Zhuang Sen's voice seemed to be filled with a smile.

"besides?"

"Besides these, what other ways do you have to [kill] me?"

Morgan tilted his head.

[I haven’t thought about it yet... 】

"You have time to think about it."

He turned around, put away his sword, and slowly walked towards the gate of the arena.

"The war is urgent, and there are no conditions for the real [training] you mentioned yet, but you have time to continue thinking about them."

"Think of more ways to kill me."

"..."

"This is an order."

Morgan stuck out his tongue and licked his chapped lips.