40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 298 18. The show is on ([-])

"He looked confident," Conrad Coates said casually.

He was tapping the fingers of his right hand on the vermilion railing of the box, and they fell one after another, turning the railing into a dull instrument.

The monotonous sound resounded throughout the entire observation deck. For some reason, this sound reminded Corax of the mine and the sound of iron picks and stones torturing each other.

He lowered his head and looked toward one of the many entrances to the amphitheater.He saw Sanguinius, Fulgrim and today's protagonist, Magnus the Red.

Their guards followed not far behind them. The Blood Angels and Emperor's Children held their heads high, but the smaller number of Lion Guards seemed a little less confident and even slightly uneasy.

Corax narrowed his eyes and looked at Magnus again, seeing a vague pain on the latter's face - it was obvious that the Crimson King felt that he had been betrayed.

"If you really think so, it only proves that you are too naive, Magnus." The Lord of the Night, standing beside him, whispered, and he also caught the look on Magnus's face. Dark, and his tone sounded anything but sympathetic.

Corax glanced at him, folded the empty bag of dried eels, and put it into his right sleeve.He poked it gently with his fingertips. The bag made of special material did not make any sound, only the feeling of depression was returned from the fingertips.

The Primarchs came to the center of the field, with the golden platform above their heads.The Imperial Guards were surrounding both sides of the high platform with genuine killing weapons in their hands, killing in solemn silence.A skinny old man in black robes, holding a scepter, stood in the center of the high platform, looking down seriously.

There was a bright light beside him, waiting quietly. The owner of the light was sitting on the throne, with an eagle flapping its wings behind him.His face is blurry, and even with an extremely disrespectful gaze, you can only get a little bit of the light.

Or a pair of golden eyes, or lightning, or a sun.

The three Primarchs present began to salute silently, while their guards took a knee.Sanguinius spoke first, his voice soft yet powerful enough to carry throughout the theater without the aid of any amplification equipment.

"Magnus has arrived, Father."

There was no greeting, no honorific, no proud titles like 'Lord of Prospero' or 'Red King', just a simple 'Magnus has arrived'.

The venue was immediately filled with noisy waves. Anyone who could appear here today was definitely not an idiot. They could all see something from Sanguinius's attitude.Magnus was naturally no exception. His remaining single eye was burning with a red-orange light at the moment.

After half a second, the emperor slowly spoke.

"Thank you, my son. Rise up, guards. No one needs to kneel today."

Before he finished speaking, the sound of the waves in the amphitheater had stopped.There was silence, and the scene was almost absurd.Everyone turned their attention to the emperor, waiting for his next words.But he didn't say anything more. Instead, Machado walked down.

The bearer held the scepter in his hand and arrived in front of the three original bodies slowly like a real old man.

Cozz grinned suddenly, and his deep laughter circulated quietly in the darkness of the observation deck.Corax looked at him in confusion, the question not yet asked but the explanation already coming.

"There is a good show, dear Raven." The Lord of the Night smiled happily, turned his head and gestured to him. There was an obvious bad expectation on the pale face of the dead man.

Corax looked at him, and somehow, he suddenly saw the true emotions behind this smiling face.

"Are you worried about him?"

"Of course not." The Lord of Night turned his head and lay on the railing. "Of course drama is best when you see it, and whatever Khalil Lohars is doing, I can't see it right now. So why should I worry about him?"

Corax shook his head and said no more.

At this time, off the field, the three original bodies placed their right hands on Malcador's scepter and solemnly and briefly swore an oath.No matter what the tone is, no matter whether the rhetoric is gorgeous or not, these three oaths can be summed up simply.

They swore an oath to be honest with everyone at the Council of Nicaea, and to speak the truth as they knew it under the Emperor's gaze, without any deception or falsehood.

After that, there was another tedious ritual step, which made people sleepy, until the last servant belonging to Malcador sealed an oath belonging to Magnus with hot wax. The matter has just ended.

There are three scrolls in total, recording the oaths of the Primarchs, with the Emperor's mark on the top as witness.Malcador nodded to the servants, and they raised their hands above their heads and slowly left with the scrolls.Then, the meeting really started.

"Then, the Nicaea meeting will officially begin from now on."

Malcador raised his scepter and let it fall gently to the ground.A strong tremor immediately spread throughout the theater, and with a flash of light, the face of the person holding the seal was completely obscured by the golden light.He was not speaking for himself at this moment, but for the person behind him.

"Red tape is meaningless, so I'll be more direct. The main content of this meeting is only one thing, that is, the think tank system. We are here across the galaxy just to completely solve this problem."

The palmist paused for a moment, giving everyone some time to discuss with each other.

"For a long time, the discussion on psykers and witchcraft in the Empire has been divided into two groups. One side believes that the term 'witchcraft' is ignorant and short-sighted, and is just another way of persecution in the new era, driven by fear and ignorance. Forged." "The other side believes that psionics are extremely dangerous, should never be trusted completely, and should be controlled or banned. Now, everyone, you can start debating among yourself."

Amidst the exclamations caused by his words, the scepter slowly raised his scepter, and the sky eagle's eyes lit up with light. At this moment, his voice swept through all the noise and resounded in everyone's ears.

"Who speaks first?"

"I'll come," said a voice.The speaker comes from the Space Wolves' box, a rune priest named O'Shel Wardmaker.

In the Primarchs' box, Leman Russ grinned.He raised his head and finally took the first sip of wine after arriving in Nicaea, but he didn't drink it all in one go. He only tasted it briefly.

Mortarion snorted lightly: "You owe me once, Russ."

"What?" The Fenrisian looked at him. "What do I owe you?"

Mortarion stared at him. Silence stretched for a few seconds before Russ laughed and patted him on the back, causing a clash of glass jars.

"Okay, okay, I owe you one—thank you for giving up the opportunity to O'Shell Wardmaker."

"So, what is he going to say?" the Lord of Death asked again, and watched O'Shell Wodmaker pass through the stairs, boxes and recorders sitting on the sidelines, and arrived under the emperor's dais.

There was a wooden pulpit there that could accommodate even the Primarch, and it was more than enough for him.Pastor Rune raised his hands roughly, opened the sliding door of the pulpit and walked in.

He raised his head and began to speak, and his voice was anything but friendly - although the wolves of Fenris could not be associated with the word friendly, it was really not surprising when the Rune Priest looked so ferocious at this moment. many.

It's not like he's here to press charges, but more like he's here to kill someone.

"You'll know just by listening to it." Ruth shook the wine glass and took another sip.

"I am Oshel Wardmaker of the Space Wolves." The Rune Priest stood in the pulpit and raised his hands, showing everyone the tattoos on his arms.

"I once fought with the Thousand Sons of the Red Devil Magnus, Shrike or Aqoru. You can check it yourself. I am too lazy to repeat it. What I want to say is that everyone in the No. 15 Legion is evil. Wizards. They abuse sorcery and magic wantonly, and in the presence of the Emperor and Leman Russ, I swear that what I say is the truth."

There was once again an uproar in the theater. Osher Wodemaker's accusation was simply shocking, but it was just the beginning, far from the end.

Magnus's Lion Guards looked at the Rune Priest in shock and anger, as if they had an old relationship with him early on. They did not expect that O'Shell Wodmaker would actually stand here today and accuse them.

"Does anyone support him?" Malcador raised his scepter sternly and touched the ground again to stop the noise. "Does anyone support O'Shell Wodemaker's accusation against No. 15 Legion?"

"It's your turn, brother." Russ stopped smiling, but pushed the wine glass to Mortarion with his backhand. "How's it going? Would you like a sip?"

Fenris' special wine, unique to the Wolf King, rippled in the wooden wine glass. The Lord of Death looked down at the wine glass, then looked up at him, and actually reached out and took off the respirator.

"Oh?" Ruth looked at him in surprise.

"I'm only going to take a sip." Mortarion said coldly. As he said, he raised his head and took a sip. He handed the wine glass and respirator to Russ, indicating that he would keep it for now.

He walked toward the observation deck, and Curze and Corax made room for him.Then, the voice of the Lord of Death immediately resounded throughout the theater.

"I support O'Shell Wodemaker's statement," he said, and was not surprised to see Magnus glare.A smile slowly appeared on that pale face. It contained no malice, but was surprisingly cold.

"I put my words first, Magnus. What I say next does not contain any prejudice or targeting against you. You can be prepared."

The Crimson King snorted coldly and answered this sentence.
-
"what happened?"

A man with an eight-pointed star carved on his forehead waved his arms timidly. In front of him was an open sarcophagus, in which lay a giant, with his hands and feet pierced and fixed, and his face was as pale as a ghost.

"Why is he vomiting blood?" the man shouted in panic.

"Don't worry!" The other woman pushed him away fiercely and closed the stone coffin. "Go and inform the master! The life of the firstborn is passing away!"

　Yes, code.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)