40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 128 31. The Resurrection from the Graveyard (End)
Jairzinho Guzman felt that his identity as a medical officer was being challenged in some strange way.

What?Where do the challenges come from?

Herein lies the challenge of performing a physical examination on a gigantic skeleton that lacks any vital signs but is able to move freely and even talk.

"How?" The huge skeleton in black robe asked, and there was a bit of ease in the voice that made Guzman wonder what to do. "I hope my health is getting better."

"Instructor, you—" Guzman stopped talking, took a deep breath of air, and at the same time began to tell himself that this matter can only be done by you.

After all, no matter how you say it, resurrection from the dead is too frightening.At least until Khalil Rohals' body is completely back to normal, Conrad Koz doesn't want too many people to know about it.

"—Your body still doesn't have any relevant data. I mean, at least our medical equipment has not been able to feed me any relevant data." Guzman said. "In other words, you are still a dead person, instructor."

The skeleton nodded calmly.

He had expected it.

There is much lost knowledge in the libraries of the Emperor Phantasm, memories that do not die, just waiting to be touched again, read and memorized again.Words are magical, and the things carried in them can sometimes be very large.Such as history, such as the real reason for the death of a certain king, and some concepts.

Immortals.

In the book written by an anonymous person, the immortals are those who enjoy the gift of God, and they all have immortal life.

But if that's not enough to be called 'immortal', they are not just not aging.In fact, there is no way to kill an immortal in the conventional sense. Even if you throw him into lava, he will crawl out one day.

After reading this book, Khalil does not agree with the so-called "gift of God". The secret and origin of the immortals are unsolved secrets for human beings and even the universe as a whole. This is beyond doubt. Not even the Emperor himself could answer that question.

However, whether it is him or Kalil, they both know that the gods never bestow gifts.

God only asks.

And he himself is of course not an immortal, the reason why he can 'come back to life' and walk in the material world again is only because of a covenant.

It is essentially an anchor and a precious testimony.But he died, there's no doubting that, and influences from behind the Veil still wreaked havoc on his current body.

In Khalil's vision, he could see the constant flames of blood burning his skeleton, trying to claim the body as his own.

Fortunately, they were already very weak, and they could not escape the shackles of his power to affect other people.

Those two weeks of fighting were worth it.

"Instructor?" Jairzinho Guzman asked softly, hiding his uneasiness about the silence well, but not well enough. "Should we repeat the inspection? Maybe this time the results will be different."

"No, that's unnecessary," said the skeleton. "I'm medically dead. It's probably disturbing you, Jairzinho. I'm sorry."

"."

The medical officer nodded silently, but did not deny it.

Khalil smiled—a smile Guzman would have seen had he had muscle and skin on his face, but he didn't.Therefore, he could only see that the skeleton's jaw opened slightly, and the blue light in the eye sockets flickered steadily.

"It's good that you're direct, Jairzinho. So, if you don't mind, I have some questions I want to ask you about the current situation in Nostramo, would you answer them for me? "

Guzman breathed a sigh of relief - he thought their instructor had changed his mind and planned to continue the inspection again. Compared with doing this, he would even rather stay in the duel cage for eight hours before coming out.

"Of course I would, instructor, but what do you want to know?"

"Just something about the basic situation since I left," Khalil said.

He could see the relief of the medical officer, so he smiled silently again.

Khalil has to admit that he's grown to like the fact that he doesn't have to put on a calm face all the time - and while staying in a skeleton form for so long isn't good for anyone, he might be able to create something when he recovers. A similar mask.

It seemed a bit pathetic to say so, but he had already begun to understand why the Emperor would maintain a terrifying detachment and calmness in most situations.
-
Carrying some kind of emotion that he didn't want others to see, Kahn put down the company flag in his hand steadily.

This is a huge banner. It was originally hung in the meeting room of the Resolute. It belongs to the Eighth Company. It is old and bloody.It was stitched together from many different banners from the dead flag bearers of the [-]th Company, crossed countless battlefields, stained countless bloods, and finally, they were sewn together.

The Warhounds had done this before setting off, determined to leave it up to the Primarch, and thus sealed the honor of the past.

And now, it's being built over a cemetery that no one imagined it would be used for.Below the flag, there are countless raised edges and corners, and Kahn knows what they are.

They were coffins of iron, in which lay the ashes of their brothers.

The bottom cabin of the Resolute has been emptied out. It used to be the home of many civilians, and the War Dogs set them free, leaving behind a place where generations of people lived together.And now, it's an empty lot.

All metal utensils, walls, and even pipes were completely melted to make a coffin, and a huge area was cleared, big enough for the war dogs to stand here, scattered into companies, covered with the blood and honor of the past The coffins of their dead brothers.

Angron their Primarch said that after death the Protector should dwell in the thing protected.

Kahn agrees with this statement, but still feels uncontrollably sad.

No. 12 Legion War Hounds now only has 210 [-] people left. The situation of each Dalian company is different. The first company, the third company and the eighth company are the most seriously damaged.The casualties of high-level officers and middle-level command chains were even more terrifying, almost one in ten, which was not unrelated to the sudden half of the betrayal.

Karn closed his eyes and stopped his thoughts. He didn't want to think about the terrible things when he sailed in the warp.

A few minutes later, he opened his eyes again and heard the voices of their Primarch over the comm channel.He looked up, and saw a giant with his back facing everyone on the iron platform not far away, and the braid-like cables behind his head were shaking.

"Remember the dead, remember their names, their appearance, everything about them." Angron whispered.

His voice, which had been ravaged and made terrifying, sounded slow and calm now.

"Because if we don't remember, they will really die. We will be an extension of the dead, we will carry their honor, their pain, every drop of blood they shed. We will hold in their place what they lost Weapon."

"Then we will avenge them, war hounds."

After the funeral, Angron slowly returned to his room. The pain caused by the Butcher's Nails was still tormenting him, but, compared to them, this room actually made Angron feel the most at a loss.

From those details, he could sense the thoughtfulness of the War Dogs in arranging it, but because of this, he didn't want to live in this room.

They have already died, so there is no more warmth in this room, only pain.Angron sat on a chair in silence. Everything here was intact. It was lucky to avoid all the bullets during the battle on the Resolute.

But what about the others?
The question swirled in his mind, made him sigh, made him unbearable.He began to recite the names silently again, from Oinomouth, Acar, Milkan, Janio... to Jill Baldwin, Jagger, Kunna
As far as the original body's memory is concerned, it is not difficult to remember everyone's name, but some people's appearance can never correspond to this name.

Angron gently raised his hand, pressed his index finger and middle finger under his eyelids, and then slowly stroked.What he touched was a rough touch, and then, warm blood spreading from his fingertips.

He was thinking, the nails would not allow it, so he began to bleed.

or tears.

Say it anyway - Angron didn't care anymore, he remembered them and he would always remember them.

Never forget.

　update completed.

　　I have written nearly 25 words this month. At the end of the month, I want to write less, save manuscripts, and prepare to add updates and the like.

　　Thank you all for your support.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)