40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 386 115. Terra ([-])

Rogal Dorn threw out his gloves, and the leather gloves separated by black and white fell on a red lacquered wood table, followed by a cloak, a jacket, and a ceremonial armed sword.

He threw them all on the table.

The Terran guard raised his hand and rubbed the center of his brow. In recent days, he always felt a lingering fatigue in his heart.

This is of course not a normal phenomenon. Ordinary work cannot make the original body tired, not to mention that he is Rogal Dorn.

But the fatigue he showed at this moment was indeed real. So, is there really a job in the world that can push the world-famous rock to its limit?

The answer is, yes.

Donne came to his window without saying a word and observed the scenery outside the window.

It was the theoretical winter in Terra, and the cold wind was biting, causing the windows embedded in the stone walls to creak. After all, nothing can escape the laws of nature, just like the temperature in his study.

There was a crackle in the stove, and the firewood transported across two galaxies was carefully chopped into pieces by the servants with small hand axes. The stove had been lit twenty minutes before he came back, but it still could not raise the temperature.

This is also not a natural phenomenon. From an architectural point of view, this watchtower-like fortress took into account the need to withstand the severe cold when it was first built, but the temperature is like this and it cannot rise.

Donne opened the window thoughtfully, and the strong wind immediately roared in and poured into the house. The documents were blown away, and the corner of the cloak held down by the armed sword kept hitting the side of the long table.

His short hair fell back in the wind, and the flames in the stove were extinguished instantly. The charcoal began to quickly turn to ashes, and the temperature dissipated, leaving only the coldness.

Donn didn't react, but quietly felt the supernatural cold, his expression unmoved. A few minutes later, he calmly closed the window and began to bend down to look for the fallen documents as if nothing had happened.

The specially designed eternal burning lamp provided him with enough light source. Although there was no difference between having it and not having it, and it did not affect Dorn's ability to see in the dark, there was still two different things between having light and not having it.

He carefully organized the documents and sorted out several manuscripts and architectural design drawings. One of the documents is very special. Compared with common paper, it is much thinner and not heavy.

Very few people in the Empire used such soft and common paper, and bureaucrats usually preferred to use parchment when writing important documents, or simply have two stonemasons carve a stele to send to their superiors.

Ordinary people could not afford such paper. Moreover, they had few opportunities to use paper to write written documents.

Only one legion in the current Empire uses this particular paper - and to reveal more, it is actually of their own making.

Dawn picked up the document and began to read it again.

He still hadn't figured out how to respond on behalf of the Ministry of Military Affairs. This was a hot potato that had been thrown at him. The bitter look on the official's face that had brought it over still lingered in his mind.

He stood up holding the paper, folded it silently, and put it into his vest pocket. The eagle emblem belonging to the Legion of the Emperor's Children is looming on the half corner of the pocket.

Donn thought for a moment, and finally returned to the long table and started to put on his clothes again.

Five minutes later, he walked out of the fortress and was immediately greeted by a servant who was wearing bulky clothes in the cold wind.

"Sir, you just came back not long ago and you are going out again?"

"Yes, Al." Dorn nodded to him, but said nothing more.

The servant bowed slightly to him, and after about thirty seconds, a black vehicle that fit the size of the original body arrived in front of them through the cold wind.

Dorn got into the car without saying a word, and the driver smoothly opened the accelerator and drove the Primarch away from the fortress. Twenty minutes later, they arrived at a grand building.

No one questioned, no one came forward to guide, the place was even so quiet that it was unusual, and there were not even half of the pilgrims who could be seen everywhere in Terra.

Dorn turned around, closed the car door, and strode into the building. The black car suddenly disappeared into the night behind him, without a trace.

The first-floor lobby of the building is a typical 'Terran style', or in other words, imperial style. The Terra Guard silently turned right and reached the second floor through a long staircase, and then walked for another twelve minutes of boring walking.

The corridor is magnificent and winding, with oil paintings, reliefs, and stone statues all available. It looks like a medieval palace restored by a nobleman.

There were even many defenseless knights in armor. They were holding long swords and posing in different attack postures, allowing Dorn to walk past them.

Finally, he reached his destination.

Dorn raised his eyes and looked at the door in front of him. The purple and gold eagle emblem glowed and fell into his eyes. He stretched out his hand and knocked on the door. There was a dull sound twice, and then the door was opened from the inside.

This door is very primitive in design and still needs to be opened manually. Although primitive, it is also reliable. The person standing behind the door was an Astartes wearing purple and gold robes. When he saw Dorn, his first reaction was not to greet him, but to be slightly stunned.

The Terran guard glanced at him, lowered his head politely and asked, "Can I go in?"

Jophiel Demukia of the Emperor's Children quickly responded: "Of course, my lord!"

He moved his body so Dawn could enter.

It was an effortless move for anyone, let alone an Astartes. He was as handsome as any of the Emperor's children, and anyone could tell at a glance that he was Fulgrim's son.

But now he is extremely clumsy when moving, and his legs are as if they are filled with lead and it is difficult to move. Donn did not enter immediately, but waited until Qiao Feier had completely left the door before taking a step.

The embarrassment on the latter's face did not escape his eyes, and Donne was not going to point out this matter now.

"Why did you come to see me?" he asked, with hope in his eyes.

Donn knew what Jophiel Demuchia was most concerned about right now, so he immediately got to the point without stopping for a moment.

"Unfortunately, the Ministry of Military Affairs still did not approve your request. They believe that your dream cannot be used as evidence-" Dorn paused. "——Actually, dreams cannot be used as evidence."

The Emperor's Son's shoulders suddenly slumped. He immediately realized his gaffe, quickly corrected his expression, and began to face Dorne with a more solemn and serious posture.

"I understand, sir. This is also what it should be. However, you should not inform me of this kind of thing. Do you have anything else?" He looked at Donne inquiringly, with a trace of longing still on his face. .

"Indeed." Dorn nodded. "If I may, I would like to ask for more details about your dream."

Qiao Feier looked at him, waiting for the next step.

"Details," Dawn repeated patiently. "You concealed some details in the application report submitted to the Ministry of Military Affairs, I can see it."

He reached out from his vest and took out the folded document and handed it to Jophiel Demukia.

"You only said that you dreamed about your primarch and your legions, but you didn't mention how many times you dreamed about them. You thought they were in danger, but you didn't say what kind of danger it was."

"These are visible evidence of concealment. Anyone who understands the rules and regulations knows that the description on the application must be detailed, but you have concealed many details. For a son of the Emperor, this is unusual. So. I’m coming, Joe Phil.”

The Emperor's Son was silent. He couldn't help but be silent - anyone who had dealt with Dorn would probably have the same expression as him at some point. It was a complex expression that completely revealed what was in his heart. .

There was shame and dissatisfaction, but Jophiel Demukia's emotions were more complicated. He even seemed a little relieved.

After a few seconds, his originally raised shoulders relaxed again.

"Okay," he said hoarsely. "As it stands, forty-one days have passed since my first dream."

"Forty-one days?" Dorn immediately frowned, while the Emperor's Son smiled complicatedly and nodded.

"Yes, my lord. Exactly the same time as this abnormal cold wave appeared."

Donne silently gestured for him to continue.

"I tried to meditate four times in total, and each time I was taken directly into the dream. Then I went into light sleep, seven times, without exception, and each time I went directly into the dream. Finally, four times I took the initiative. The same goes for trying deep sleep. The moment you close your eyes, you enter that dream."

"After the war." Dorn frowned and recited a few key words. "Sail in subspace, surrounded by wolves. What else? Your vague words in the report made many people think that you were hallucinating."

"They suffered heavy casualties," the Emperor's Son replied blankly, his eyes unfocused. "I saw blood, lots of blood. Every one of my brothers was covered in bruises. They were surrounding the Phoenix, and the Phoenix itself was—"

He couldn't continue, as a sudden shaking forced him to shut his mouth. Donne looked at his legs. The legs hidden under the robe were not the flesh that humans should have, but were completely metallic.

Those were two prosthetic legs built by Fulgrim himself.

Before he was injured, Jophiel Demukia was the best swordsman among the Emperor's Children, with great achievements in battle. But now, he is just a broken man.

For the Astartes, limb defects can actually be replaced with prostheses, but surgery is risky, and no doctor, no matter how skilled he is, dares to say that he can be [-]% successful.

Qiao Feier happened to encounter this very small probability of failure, and it happened far more than once. He underwent a total of six surgeries, and for the last one, Fulgrim hired an Iron Hand.

As we all know, they are quite experienced in this area, but the Iron Hand warrior is equally powerless. Just like Zephon the Herald of the Blood Angels, Jophiel Demukia was also a poor man who had a strong rejection reaction to prosthetic transplant surgery.

Not only has he lost the precise steps he was once proud of, but even walking is quite inconvenient. He can no longer participate in battles. For this reason, he can only stay in the throne world.

There are many people who have experienced similar experiences to him, and Zefeng is one of them.

"Please don't pay attention to me." Qiao Feier whispered, bending slightly and grabbing the outside of his thighs with both hands.

The abnormal trembling passed quickly. He wanted to continue talking, but failed. The Imperial Fist emblem on Dorn's chest rang with a strong vibration, which was the highest level of warning.

The Terran Guard pulled off the medal and pressed it, and the details of the alarm began to ring in his ears.

The built-in headset conveyed the reporter's words to Donn's ears. The entire short communication lasted for three minutes, and Donn only uttered a short sentence in response.

"I'll be there soon."

After he finished speaking, he looked at Jophiel Demukia: "I'm afraid you need to go with me, Beheader."

He pronounced a nickname, which made the Emperor's Son startle slightly. It had been a long time since he had been called that. This title was once full of honor and was bestowed upon him by Fulgrim himself.

It originated from a difficult guard battle. Qiao Feier's team was ambushed and he was the last person alive. Like all legendary stories, the one who survives is always awarded various titles
  "Sir? May I know the reason?"

"According to the rules and regulations, I should not reveal the specific details of this matter to you before you agree, but this matter is quite special." Dorn said expressionlessly. "I need you to be mentally prepared."

The Emperor's Son took a deep breath. He had a vague premonition of something, but he was not sure for a while. He has been disappointed so many times that he really doesn't dare to hope again.

Staring into his eyes, Dawn took in all of this. Nushi calmly arranged his words and spoke word by word.
-
  Khalil slowly opened his eyes.

The strong wind immediately began to howl, creating a terrifying echo in the cave where he was. The ground was frosted. The two forbidden soldiers standing at the door of the cave looked back silently. Khalil nodded to them and signaled to himself No big deal.
  However, sometimes, you can't say enough.

In the next second, there was a gloomy flame between the ribs of the skeleton angrily breaking through the shackles of the body. It was a chorus of millions of voices, and the hatred in it was so terrifying that it was far beyond the realm of hearing, even if it was A deaf person can probably hear.

And, for some reason, their howl sounded quite like a cry.

"Kos—!"

The originally lazy cloak twitched violently after hearing the sound, and immediately emerged from the shadows, wrapping its pale ribs. The strong wind stopped for a moment, and Khalil lowered his head and patted it, There was a fleeting smile behind the mask.

"I need to leave for a while," he said politely to the Custodes. "Please tell him that I will be back soon."

As soon as he finished speaking, he disappeared. The Imperial Guards turned around wordlessly, stepped into the cave, and sprinkled some glowing powder on the frosty ground.

　There are two more chapters, or maybe three, to go.

　　
  　
  (End of this chapter)