40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 136 39. Mourning for the Funeral (End)
As if his blood had been frozen, Robert Guilliman used his extreme rationality to keep himself from swinging his fist at the darkness the first moment he heard the voice.

He turned his head away, his eyes piercing the night unhindered.He saw a pale face, a pale face that belonged to Caryl Rohars, and the face was even smiling.

His cheeks began to twitch again.

"Khalil?" Angron frowned. "You—are you still alive?"

"I can show you a physical examination report to answer your question." Khalil shook his head with a smile. "But that would be too much trouble, so, yes, I'm still alive."

"But Karn said you're dead." Angron stared at Khalil closely as he spoke. "He said that even your bones were burned to ashes."

"."

Khalil shook his head dumbfoundingly: "Kan. The last thing I said to him was that I will be fine. Obviously, he took this sentence as my last words."

"How did you get to Nostramo?" Robert Guilliman asked seriously, his expression tense.The breeze blew by, causing his short blond hair to sway slightly in the dim light of the tarmac, but the pair of eyes beneath it were so dignified that they couldn't be more serious.

"I'm afraid I can't answer that question in a way you can understand. But, as Conrad said, we all need to thank him for the dagger."

"What does that have to do with the knife?" Guilliman continued to ask. "I know it looks dangerous and I can tell it doesn't belong in the 'normal' world, but what does that have to do with it?"

Khalil sighed, then slowly extended his right hand.

"Well, do you really want to know?" he asked curtly. "It's not like we can't do it again, if you want."

"What?" Angron asked.

"Handshake," Khalil replied. "A protocol that has been distorted for your brother Robert Guilliman."

Angron turned his head, glanced at Guilliman, and began to use his gift.

He felt a tense heart, and the windows that could be observed were closed by its owner himself, but just closing the doors and windows was not enough, Angron could still observe the light spilling through the gaps to capture Robert Key Riemann's thoughts.

'Doubt', 'Is he real? ', 'Go to his imperial truth'.
What does this have to do with imperial truth?

Angron frowned, and he turned his head to look at Khalil Rohals.

The latter was smiling, aware of his prying eyes, even allowing him to observe.Staring into those completely black eyes, Angron suddenly felt a strong impulse, and the next second, his talent began to operate beyond normal.

'Some truths are meant not to be spoken, Angron.They are accursed lore, pages soaked in venom by monsters in the dark.At some point, the words on these pages will be curled up by them and become a murder weapon for those who know them. '

The Nucerian shook his head. It was the first time he had received such a complete sentence from his gift, and it felt weird.

It was almost as if someone was speaking to himself, inside his skull, with a voice that didn't belong to anyone else.

But this is not the point.

The point is—he's confirmed something.

Angron took a step forward and grabbed the right hand.Khalil gave him a surprised look, and Guilliman let out a surprised cry from his throat.

However, it was too late.

Angron's vision has stepped into a higher level.

Someone pushed open a door of nothingness that should not have existed for him with his own hands.From this door, a golden light leaked out.This brilliance is not dazzling, but it makes people feel warm and warm.Then, a voice came from inside.

"Come in, my son."

Angron turned around speechlessly, and saw a face that was becoming paler under the golden light.Khalil Rohars, who had donned a ghostly black robe at some point, was smiling at him wordlessly.

"This is not something I intended to show you or your brother, Angron," he said softly. "However, it would be better for him to tell the story himself. Would you like to go in and talk to him, Angron?"

The Nucerian nodded silently, then straightened his chest and stepped into the door of nothingness.

"What did you do to him!" Guilliman rushed forward. "who are you?!"

Khalil sighed, and did not answer Lord Macragge's question immediately.He supported Angron, and the Primarch of the Warhounds sat down against a metal ramp on the tarmac.

Angron's eyes were closed tightly, and although his breathing was steady, he suddenly fell into sleep.Therefore, Robert Guilliman's nervousness is completely understandable.

But this also raises a new question.

+You really make trouble for me. +
+I still need three days to arrive, so I have to talk to him first. +
+how?Afraid that you won't be able to speak after meeting? +
+ no. +
+Really? +
There was no answer, and the psionic communication was hung up.

Khalil stood up resignedly, and gestured to Robert Guilliman, who was tense, as if about to attack—or rather, gestured behind him.

"Whatever you're going to do, I hope you don't, Conrad," he said softly. "Robert meant no ill will to me."

Guilliman didn't look back at the first moment, he wasn't sure if the words were a simple ploy to deceive him, until his supernatural perception heard a slight breath.Turning his head, he saw Conrad Koz with a very calm expression.

"He just hasn't figured out who I am yet," Khalil said slowly. "So stop spinning your wrist, I didn't give it to you to do something like this with it."

"What kind of thing?" Conrad Curtz asked softly. "I do not understand."

Robert Guilliman's brow furrowed slowly, and then slowly relaxed—he looked at Conrad Curze, and then turned his head to look at Khalil Rohals.After repeatedly confirming, he finally relaxed his tense muscles with relief.

He was not a dull man, and although he had fallen into some strange misunderstanding before, this did not prevent him from realizing the truth.

"Stop doing that," Khalil said with an almost ruthless attitude. "You better apologize to your brother now."

"What? No, there's no need—" Robert Guilliman hurriedly withdrew from the place where their eyes met and stood at the other end of the road. "—Conrad's behavior is completely understandable."

The Lord of the Eighth Legion gave him a silent smile.

"Yes, it can be understood, but it cannot be forgiven just like that." Khalil said seriously.

"This farce itself should not have happened. It was my connivance with him that caused you to fall into such an embarrassing misunderstanding, and what he just wanted to do is beyond my tolerance."

He looked at Conrad Coates: "I don't remember telling you to do this, Conrad."

".What?" Conrad Koz pursed his lips and asked.

"Hurt someone who is nice to you."

"I do not have."

"If Robert jumped at me for Angron just now, what would you do?"

"."

"what will you do?"

"I'll—I'll make him bleed a little." Conrad Curz replied in a low voice, his eyes focused on the floor tiles under his feet.

Robert Guilliman was not surprised when he heard this answer, and even felt a little relieved—he smiled wryly to himself, remembering the assassination against his adoptive father and his reaction afterwards.

Tarasa Eudon said she almost thought Guilliman had gone mad.

She saw in her adopted son none of the old rationality, nothing left of that good quality, only the purest anger.A kind of anger beyond the scope of human cognition, this kind of emotion made him look extremely scary at that time.

Robert Guilliman was thankful he had finally learned to resist that rage, but his brother apparently didn't.Guilliman would not blame him for this, but the current situation is developing in a direction he does not want to see.

So he spoke again.

"It's really nothing, Khalil, you're being too hard on him."

"Really?" Khalil asked softly. "But I have been pampering him, Robert, otherwise this farce would not have happened at all. He is still angry with you in his heart, otherwise he would not make such a joke. Of course, he is probably still angry with me. "

"Didn't you, Conrad?" He smiled slightly.

Robert Guilliman did not see any displeasure or other emotions on that pale face.

Realizing this incident gave him an urge to get out of here, and Guilliman knew he was caught in a family dispute.

He looked at his unconscious brother.

I'm a little envious of you now, Angron.
"Yes." Conrad Koz finally spoke after a period of silence. "I am angry."

"Are you going to say this to me as Conrad Coates?"

"Otherwise?" There was a hissing voice, and Guilliman sighed silently, looking up, trying to get his attention away from the place.He couldn't understand Nostramo, and now, he was actually starting to feel lucky about it.

"Midnight Ghost is a two-year-old child, so he can get angry and act irrationally because it's forgivable."

Khalil shook his head and began speaking in the same hissing language.

"But Conrad Curze can't, Conrad Curze is the master of the Eighth Legion, you not only represent yourself, you also represent Nostramo and the Eighth Legion. Ghost, you just now Conduct amounted to attempted murder."

"I won't really kill him, I'll just make him suffer if he attacks you."

"...I'm pretty sure I never taught you such a thing, Ghost." Khalil frowned. "Besides, I don't need you to help me with this kind of thing."

"So what exactly do you need me for?" the ghost hissed.

The small box in his heart was finally opened at this moment, and the accumulated emotions exploded completely, making Nostramo almost sound like a fierce roar.

Robert Guilliman looked away and began to observe the bewildered night of Nostramon.If he could, he wished he could go deaf for a while.Although he can't understand Nostramo, the emotion in the words is obvious
Khalil was silent.

"We'll discuss that again tonight," he said. "As for now—go back to the identity of Konrad Kotz, the gathering of the three Primarchs should be celebrated with a dinner party."

　so twisted
　　one more chapter

　　
　
(End of this chapter)