Warhammer Inquisitor
Chapter 474 Rebirth from the Ashes: Report, the Beginning of Marshals in the Past World (Part 1)
This is already the third time that Petronilla Viva has reported to him. He thought he knew him well enough, but she found out that she was wrong, she didn't know him well enough.
Like the previous three, their meeting took place in Vito's private cabin, which he thought was perfect for those "secret" conversations as it was deserted and uninterrupted.
As in the previous three times, he polished his suit of armor, while Petronilla sat in the back and reported to him the new discoveries and developments of recent days. He was also a good listener as always, until Petronilla said Open your mouth only after you've released it.
"You think he's lying?" he asked, and Petronilla nodded, "Yes, Constantine, I think so, I spoke to the three narrators, but the three They all give very different content.”
She continued to speak, and through the recent getting along, Petronilla already knew that if he didn't do something or add something immediately after he finished speaking, it meant that she could continue talking.
"The Paladin of Kevil, Grom of Redania, and Paramo of Soden, all three of them are high-level narrators, qualified, and have also talked with Anthony."
"But what he told them was all lies, at least for now."
Petronila told him what he had found out, and Antony told Palatine that he was from a noble family in Terra, but to Palamo of Soden, he came from a knight family.
"This is different from the first time I talked with him. At that time, he said that he came from a family of the Ministry of Political Affairs in the Pacific Starfield. He was selected by Guilliman for his extraordinary talent and was given this important task."
Petronilla herself still remembered the first conversation with Antony. He was quite an annoying guy, arrogant and conceited. He kept talking about Guilliman and Terra, as if afraid that she would not know his identity. of.
"You suspect he's a spy." He said suddenly while polishing his armor, which caught Petronilla a little off guard, but he quickly regained his composure.
"No, Constantine, I'm not sure, but I believe he is hiding something." "And your task is to find out what's hidden."
There seemed to be reproach in his tone, which annoyed Petronilla, but she didn't show it.
"If you allow an assassin or an inquisitor to assist me, I think I'll find out," she protested, but Vito didn't even turn around. "And you know why I came to you, right? Why I do not entrust this task to assassins, or to inquisitors."
His rhetorical question made Petronilla choke on what she blurted out. She knew that when he first inquired about information for Vito, he thought about why he would find himself instead of other more professional people.
She wanted to ask him at first, but soon realized that it would lead nowhere, that he would not tell his answer, at best he would get insinuations, or outright sarcasm.
But it didn't take long for her to figure it out for herself, and it was at dinner one evening when she ate vegetables from the same agricultural world and drank wine from perhaps the same estate, and then she figured it out .
He asked himself to find out the situation in order to disassociate himself from the relationship and let the preacher who also belonged to Guilliman investigate another subject, so that even if he was exposed, it could only be interpreted as a right within the Guilliman Group Strife, not the intention of the Supreme Commander.
"You should find out more information, more definite information." He continued, but after a moment he noticed his meanness, and switched to a more gentle tone, "But you did bring back useful information, well done .”
His words didn't make him feel any comfort, but Petronilla chose to conceal it. He might know it, but he also chose to change the topic.
"Now it's my turn. Where were we last time? Did we finish?" he asked.
"That's it, Constantine, you told me about the Randan War during the Great Crusade, and Morvia, and the Battle of Daros." She said with a faint smile, "They are all wonderful stories, but I want to hear something different this time."
"What do you want to hear?" He didn't stop what he was doing and asked without looking back.
"I want to know, your past, Constantine, the past of a long time ago, starting from the time you were born." Petronilla said cautiously, this plan had been swirling in her mind for several days, and it was finally at this moment Speak up.
Vito was silent for a while, he didn't speak for a while, which made Petronilla a little nervous, but finally he spoke, "Very well, I promised you that I would tell you any story, and I will not break my promise."
"But that's a boring story, are you sure you want to hear it?" he asked, and she laughed, "Konstantin, there are no boring stories, only bad tellers, but don't worry, I'll polish it later of."
He smiled too, ignoring the underlying complaint in her words, and continued scrubbing the arm of the armor.
"And besides, I have already learned about the war victories you have won, but I don't know the source of these victories."
"Is it important?"
"Of course! Such a heroic epic is full of loopholes. Anyone with a little bachelor can easily find the loopholes and pierce them. It needs the growth of the hero and experience as a condiment, so that it can cook a good dish." she protested.
But Vito stopped, glanced at her from the corner of the eye, and that look made Petronilla nervous instantly, "I'm not a dish, Petronilla Viva, even if I were, it's your turn to cook , don’t mistakenly think that you can say such presumptuous words to me just because of my friendliness.”
"I'm sorry, sir, I take my words back." She said respectfully, and he said nothing more, and then continued with the matter at hand.
He polished the embossment on his armor, and after a few seconds of tense silence from Petronilla, he said, "I was born in the Greek region of ancient Terra, around 600 BC, if I remember correctly."
"But I was born further north. I don't know what it's called or where it is. When my parents fled there, I was just flesh and blood in my mother's belly, so I don't remember anything."
He said, seemingly trying to remember, "My memory really belongs to Crete, although I don't remember much, I only remember a sea, a mountain, and my home."
"What's that like?" Petronilla asked longingly, imagining in her mind.
"I remember it was a house with a red painted gate, and a garden full of flowers, and a pear tree could be seen from my room." He said, changing the position of the armor polishing to the flank.
"You said, what did your parents flee and then went to Crete? Do you know what it is?" Petronilla continued to ask, waiting for his answer.
He also quickly replied, "No, I don't know. Father never mentioned it. He only said that we have escaped far enough that the enemy can no longer find us."
He sighed lightly, and the polishing hand stopped for a moment, "I can't even remember his appearance, his name, I remember my mother's name is Melissa, if I remember correctly, she has red hair , and father... no, I don't remember at all."
She didn't disturb him, but listened quietly.
"I had a great childhood on Crete, although I don't remember the children I played with or the places we visited."
"Don't you remember any of them? Your Excellency."
He was silent for a moment, "No, there is a girl, whose name I don't remember, but I think she has pale golden hair, just like gold."
He fell into a long speechless speech again, just polishing his armor, before speaking again after a long time, "I don't have much impression of that place."
"Where did you leave? At what time?" She asked again, knowing she had to keep up with him, or he would hear it in his memory.
"I can't remember clearly, but it shouldn't be that big. It was one evening. I still remember it. When I got home, I found that the enemies my father had promised I hadn't seen were chasing after them. My father fought with them to protect my mother. Several of those guys died. , but my father also fell in a pool of blood in the end."
"Mother died in front of me, they slit her throat and blocked my face."
"I'm sorry if this brings back any bad memories for you"
"No, you don't have to apologize, they all died afterward, and besides, I've remembered." He spoke quietly, but Petronilla could still see the clenched fingers.
"You killed them?"
"Part of it, I still remember their faces. One of them, the first man I killed, was a pale-skinned man with a big beard. I slit his throat and killed with my power. There were several left, and that was the first time I realized who I was."
He rubbed the long sword as if he was holding it at that time, "There were not many of them left, and then I passed out, Uncle Ban Yang, ah, he is not my real uncle, but my father's business partner found me , killed the remaining few, and took me away."
"In the following days, I followed Uncle Ban Yang. For my safety, he took me out of Crete and started wandering around, doing business and buying and selling."
"I believe it was a happy day." Petronilla said with a smile, and he also smiled, "It was indeed a good time. We went to many places, the grasslands of Crimea, the mountains of Asia Minor, and the fiery deserts as far as the Horn of Hercules."
He continued to laugh, reminiscing about the good old days.
"Have you been with him all this time, Banyan?" She brought Vito back from memory again.
He shook his head, wiping the sword that was chilling on his knee, "No, Bunyan later died of an illness in Alexandria, although it wasn't called that at the time, God knows what it was called."
As he wiped, he continued, "I buried Ban Yang and left alone. I was about fifteen? Or thirteen? Damn, I don't remember."
"What happened to you after that?"
"Oh, that's a lot, I fought in the Persian Wars, I worked with the Spartans at Thermopylae, I teamed up with the Greeks against the Persians, I joined Alexander the Great, and I went to the end I never thought, That’s how you know how big the world really is.”
He recalled, and his hands stopped for a while, "Can you imagine? Miss Petronila, the night in Baghdad, the vaults illuminated by candles, the golden sand sea and the tall mountains, can you imagine?"
"I'm working hard." She said, and recorded the words in the memory spiral implant in her brain.
"After Alexander's death, I started to travel around. That expedition aroused my curiosity about the world, and I went to many places." He continued what he was doing, but the memories did not stop.
"From the grassland to the desert, from the mountains to the ocean, I have met many people, met many people, and finally on Mount Moses"
He stopped, and Petronia looked at him a little annoyed. She didn't like the feeling of the story being interrupted, and said with a little complaint, "What? Did you see something somewhere?"
"It's nothing, just a man called the Emperor."
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