40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 133 36. Mourning for a Funeral ([-])

Angron pondered.

He stood on the bridge of his flagship, neatly dressed in his blue and white uniform.

The clothes were made by the War Hounds before they set off. It came from an ancient and prestigious family of cloth makers, whose ancestors were said to have made clothes for the Emperor.

The Warhounds paid nothing for the garment, and the family simply forgot all about it when they heard that it was dedicated to a Primarch who was about to return to the Empire.

The clothes themselves are baggy, yet serious and elegant, and the two colors complement each other.Brings a balanced and subtle temperament.It's simple, but never out of style.

Angron was usually serious when he was silent, but now, with this suit and the steel braids hanging behind his head, something more terrifying was forced into his seriousness—but The Primarch of the Warhounds didn't let that obscure his expression, he still looked calm.

"grown ups--"

"—You call me that title again, and I'll throw you out, Karelian." Angron turned his head, with a smile that was not so gentle compared to ordinary people.

He looked to his gladiator brother, who shrugged and replied with a Nucerian proverb: "A beast does not lay hands on a stone."

"I am not some beast, and you are not a stone."

"I'd rather be a stone," said the gladiator. "I still feel dizzy looking at these big windows on the boat."

"Just get used to it." Angron grinned, his voice was mutilated, but his face was still calm. "These stars don't sting your feet like sand does."

"Yeah, but they'd scare me to death." Karelian sighed.

He stood beside Angron as a mortal, but without seeming servile, and the Primarch saw nothing wrong with it.They really talk like brothers.

Kahn took a panoramic view of the matter, then looked away, and nodded slightly to another war dog standing guard by the bridge door. The latter expressed his meaning with a slight nod, although the two No one spoke, but Kahn could guess what he was talking about.

'I can't understand Nucerian either! '

"Really? You didn't sleep all night the first day you came aboard, Kleist told me. She said you stared out of the window all night."

Karelian laughed, and Angron couldn't help laughing out loud as the gladiator grumbled a long list of obscenities in a pretentiously weird tone—it wasn't Karelian, it was a dead man. The skill of the gladiator named Krull.

He always talked like that when he was alive.Say it when you are whipped, say it when you are beaten, say it when you are not full, and say it when you are full.Except for sleeping, his mouth never stopped.

Of course, he had shut up forever.

But there are still people in the world who remember him.

However, after laughing, they all fell silent in unison.

The gladiator and his giant brother lowered their heads and stared at the black metal floor of the bridge together.Above them, a huge banner that was dyed from blue and white to red with blood was slowly fluttering.Jill Birdwin and other war dead are densely arrayed on it.

"That man—is he really dead?" Karelian asked after a while.

"Yes." Angron said. "He died, and Karn saw his disappearance with his own eyes."

"Kan?"

Angron turned his head to the side and pointed his thumb at the person behind him instead of answering.

Karelian was silent again, and spoke again after a long time: "He saved you, Angron."

"I know."

"And those blue fighters—the Ultramarines, huh? And them, they saved us."

"Yes."

"How many died?" asked the gladiator.

"A lot." Angron replied calmly, a huge number flashed in his mind.The only reason he didn't say it was because Karelian didn't understand the concept of the number.He just needs to say a lot, and Gladiator will understand what it means.

"They all died for us?"

"No." Angron replied in a low voice. "Die for me."

"You are our brother, and if they died for you, they died for us."

"It's different, Karelian," Angron said softly. "They are my heirs, and my blood flows in their veins. They were plagued by bad luck to come to see me, and it has nothing to do with you."

"So, what about him? The man named Khalil Rohars?" The gladiator raised his head, staring closely at his brother. "His death was always about us."

Angron sighed.

He knows what his siblings want to do.They want to fight, they want revenge, just like they always did in the past.

Slave gladiators were forced to fight anything in the bunker, sometimes with each other, sometimes with dangerous beasts.It was a blessing to die at the hands of another gladiator, but at the hands of wild beasts they would have no complaints, knowing that someone would avenge them.

"I know we can't help you now, Angron, and maybe we never could. But we're not going to just stay on your ship and slowly turn into paunchy nobles. We're still Gladiators, we fought for dignity and survival before, and we fight now."

The gladiator looked at his brother gravely, almost staring and pressing.

Angron looked back calmly and shook his head: "Do you think I let you on board to make you noble?"

"If we don't fight, sooner or later we will become like those slave owners." Karelian said disgustedly. "We are uneducated and illiterate, but we are definitely not stupid, and we will not let ourselves become blind."

"We saw before that you were different from us, so we can now see what this ship of yours and these warriors of yours are. You are an army, Angron, and this army is made of giants formed, such giants—”

He pointed to Karn and the other warhounds on the bridge.

"—they wear such armor and hold such sharp swords. And they all listen to you, so what are you?"

Angron finally frowned and shouted angrily in a low voice, "I won't become a beast like them!"

"But what about us?" the gladiator asked.

Angron was stunned, he didn't realize what his brother was talking about at the first moment, and only half a second later, he began to understand.

"We're sure you won't be like that, but what about us, Angron?" the gladiator repeated.

"We are not like you, who can heal from many wounds, who can bring down those monsters with one hand—admit it, Angron, you are our brother, but you and we have never Same."

"I knew it the first time I saw you. You're not going to turn into something like them, but are we? We're just gladiators, Angron, and we've got to fight, and we've got to remember who we are who, or we shall forget. You invited us on board, and out of brotherhood and sisterhood we followed, but you cannot ask us to give up our birthright."

Gladiator Karelian stretched out his right hand, fingers together, bent, thumb extended, in an ancient gesture.He looked at his brother—looking at the brother who was far taller and nobler than him, and demanded dignity with the strongest posture.

"We must fight. Gladiators must repay their kindness and revenge."

Angron was silent, and after 3 minutes, he reached out and took the hand, and squeezed it tightly, in the way of swearing between gladiators.

Then, he turned around and called his current Eighth Company Commander in High Gothic.Karn walked briskly to his primarch and glanced at Karelian through the eyepiece.

His primarch spoke slowly.
-
"I have added a new auxiliary army." Angron said to Robert Guilliman's holographic projection.

Guilliman pondered for a while, the holographic projection came to life, and every detail of his face was clearly visible in the light blue technological creation.After a while, he nodded: "Your brothers and sisters?"

"Yes." The Primarch of the War Dogs closed his eyes, supported the iron platform with both hands, and sighed.

The bridge was now empty, the Techmarines and crew from the Glory of Macragge had left for the time being, Angron politely asked them to leave, he needed some alone time.

"So, do you have something to say?"

"Yes." Angron said.

His eyes were still closed, his face trembling, the effect of the Butcher's Nails would be with him forever, and Angron was getting used to the lessened pain.

The hologram of Robert Guilliman turned and gestured around.After a while, he spoke.

"Go ahead, brother."

Angron opened his eyes.

"When did you... realize we're different from everyone else?" he asked with difficulty.

"That's a good question." Robert Guilliman nodded thoughtfully. "From when I was a kid — from when I would bend over into a classroom and still hold my head."

He laughed, not serious, but bitter.

"I've actually been reminded of it constantly. I wanted to play with kids my age, but they turned me down on the grounds that I was 'big like a monster'. I was so sad, But I also realize now that to ordinary people, we are indeed monsters."

Angron didn't answer the question, he knew that Robert Guilliman was right.

"I understand it very well now," continued Guilliman. "If a civilian who knows nothing about the Primarch sees us, his first reaction will never be respect."

"He will doubt, be surprised, even be afraid. Whether it is a man or a woman, regardless of the level of knowledge. It is very difficult for them to understand and accept us, Angron. The common people will respect you and will You worship like a god, even kneel down to you, and call sacred to the things you use, but they just won't walk with you."

Robert Guilliman pursed his lips and gave a sad and peaceful smile.

"Someone once said that the Primarch was a perfect creature without defects. I don't know who said it, but I want to tell him that we are also flawed. We have too much power, but we have no emotions and reactions like ordinary people. This is where our flaw lies, we are above ordinary people, but we must walk with ordinary people.”

He raised his head, and there were waves of fluctuations from the holographic projection.His voice began to become soft and ethereal, as if coming from afar.

"...otherwise we'd be something horrible."

"Become a monster?" Angron asked in a low voice.

"No, worse than that," said Guilliman. "It will become a monster named after God."

"Lorgar Aurelion?"

"."

Guilliman looked at Angron in astonishment, and the corner of his mouth curled up before he realized that he had been deceived—the Lord of Macragge couldn't help but laugh.

"Lorgar is not a monster. He is warm and kind. Although I don't like his beliefs, I respect him just as he respects me."

"I haven't seen him, so I'll tell you when I see him with my own eyes, and I disagree with you," Angron said. "As for now. How far are we from Nostramo?"

Guilliman sighed, he raised his right hand, took off the laurel crown, and wiped it: "We did not travel in the subspace, so if we follow the required navigation between Macragge and Nostramo Judging by time, we should still need half a month."

"Four and a half months have passed." Angron folded his hands with a serious expression. "And I still haven't figured out how to face Conrad Coates"

Neither do I, bro.

Standing on the bridge of the Glory of Macragge, Robert Guilliman sighed softly.He also didn't know how to deal with a brother he'd never met—Hi, I've brought news of your adoptive father's death. He died in a... I can't tell you why, we His body was never found, and there's nothing we can do to tell you the truth.we are very sorry.

Then what?Is it just sorry?
Guilliman closed his eyes in pain, but something had happened.Things have come to this point, there is no room for debate.

He spoke again.

"...I plan to meet him without bringing anyone," Guilliman said. "He's going to get out of control, he's going to—he might try to attack me, and if anyone from my Legion was there, it could have gotten worse. It's a serious political issue, Angron."

"Are you still thinking about politics?"

"I must," replied Robert Guilliman. "Otherwise my mind would just keep telling me one thing over and over again."

"what's up?"

Guilliman stared fixedly at his brother's holographic projection, and said slowly, "I killed our brother's adoptive father."

Angron turned his head and said nothing, except for one sentence.

"I'll go with you then."

　Also, this chapter is 4k, please ask for tickets by the way.

　　At the end of the month, I originally planned to put it badly, but I thought about it and let it go, because if there are still 6 tickets to [-]k monthly tickets, I can start some operating funds next month. In short, it will be tens of thousands today.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)