40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 44 44. Aftermath (Two in One)

Eighth Legion
In front of the broad and gorgeous desk, Kalil flipped through the paper materials in front of him with a solemn expression.He sat on a chair that looked extremely comfortable, but his back was naturally straightened.

After the conversation with Neos was over, the king named Emperor used his authority to give Khalil a high degree of freedom in this palace.

As a result, he can freely enter every secret room and read every forbidden parchment scroll.This freedom was not enjoyed by his sons.

But Khalil was unmoved by it, and did nothing with it.

He simply retrieved some information he needed from the Emperor's study under the icy gaze of the golden armored warriors, that's all.

For now, he's thankful that the sources are on paper, not ancient parchment scrolls.The touch of the latter reminded him of something unpleasant.

"Sons of Prisoners"

Khalil narrowed his eyes, a trace of complexity flashed across his gloomy and pale face.

"Are you unhappy with them?" a voice asked.

"No." Khalil shook his head. "The sins of the fathers should not extend to the offspring unless they follow the same path as the fathers."

"But you're frowning, Khalil," said Conrad Coates.

He was still wearing the black robe, but his hair was loose again.At this moment, he was standing behind Khalil, reading the documents with him.

He doesn't need to be literate, he understands it innately.

"Yes."

Khalil acknowledged his emotions, not hiding them.He hadn't lied to the ghost, never before, not now, and probably never will.

"Then why?"

"Because they come from the prisons beneath Terra."

Khalil said curtly. "Based on these descriptions, that prison should probably be called an underground city."

Terra
Earth.

Something complicated flashed across his face.The room was bright, and he made no room for dark shadows in his features.But it still happened.

Conrad Koz nodded: "Quintus?"

"Do not."

Khalil leaned back slightly, leaning back in his chair, looking a little more relaxed for the first time. "It's better than Quintus's situation."

The pale giant thought for a while, then whispered, "Well, that's a good thing."

"Yes, Conrad. That's a good thing—how about you decide these things?"

Khalil turned sideways and smiled slowly: "This is your army."

"...I don't think I'm capable of doing this," Conrad Koz said after a hesitant silence.

He has obviously matured a lot, and in just one and a half days, he has transformed to this point.

Really inhuman.Khalil thought with a sigh, then felt sorry for him.But he didn't stop the process, and he won't.

Some things. are necessary.

"Why?" Khalil asked, gazing into the giant's eyes.It's a conversational technique, and it's also a form of politeness.

Then he waited patiently.

Half a minute later, Conrad Koz looked away and replied in a low voice: "Because I have no clue about this, Khalil. I didn't know I had a Legion until an hour ago. And it is A legion with my genes."

His expression finally changed to the blankness that Khalil was familiar with.

".That means, they.are my sons?"

Khalil couldn't help laughing: "Yes, in terms of blood relationship, yes. But, considering that you are only one and a half years old."

He shook his head with a smile and said nothing more.

Curze lowered his head in frustration and muttered something, hissing, obviously in Nostramo again.Khalil sighed helplessly.

"According to the time inference, they will arrive in about two weeks. So, you still have two weeks to complete the psychological construction and preparation, Conrad."

"Can't you call me a ghost at this hour?" the pale giant hissed.

"We're talking business, Conrad," Khalil said quietly. "Also, in High Gothic."

"I have an accent." Hissed.

"What accent will allow you to say these four words in High Gothic exactly like Nostramo?"

"Nostramo accent." Standard High Gothic, no accent, extremely noble.

Khalil raised an eyebrow.

"Are you kidding me?"

"Do you not like it?"

"This is the time to get down to business, Conrad, let's get back to the point. In two weeks, you can learn a lot on this ship."

"What about you?" Conrad Coates asked sharply. "What are you going to do again?"

"You can't control me, Lord of the Eighth Legion."

Khalil laughed out loud. "I have a lot of things to do, but none of these things have anything to do with you."

".Is this a joke?"

"Don't you like it?" Khalil winked at him. "I hate a sense of humor after all."

"."

The pale giant shook his head wearily. "He's in pain, Khalil."

Jumped in abruptly, without any warning, but it didn't surprise Khalil.If Conrad Coz didn't talk to him about it, he'd be surprised for a while.

"Why do you feel that way?" he asked.

Then he waited—as always, he waited patiently.

"...a sense of fragmentation."

Frowning, Conrad Coates said. "He's a ruthless monarch, an ambitious general, but... he doesn't seem to be."

"It's weird."

He nodded, using the word for the final definition. "Why would anyone do that?"

"A man's actions are determined by his purpose."

Khalil said quietly. "And a person's purpose is determined by his character. If you think he is weird and divided, you might as well think about his purpose."

He raised his head and stared at the delicate ceiling in the room.

"Recover the lost ground, unify the galaxy, and bring humanity back together. These things require him to be a ruthless monarch and an ambitious general. The part that makes you feel weird is his attitude when he talks to you, right? ?”

Conrad Koz nodded again with a complicated expression.

He doesn't understand.Someday, he will, but not now.

Khalil smiled slightly, and suddenly spoke Nostramo: "ghost."

"Huh?" Ghost looked back blankly.

"It's nothing."

Khalil stood up with a smile and switched back to High Gothic. "Rest early, Lord of the Eighth Legion. Starting tomorrow, you will study with that Fulgrim."

"he?!"

"if not?"

"Why can't you come?"

"I don't know anything about the current state of the empire created by the Emperor."

Khalil walked to the door, turned around, leaned against the door and answered with a smile. "Therefore, even if I want to teach you, I can't do it. Besides."

Seeing Conrad Koz's expression, Khalil stopped talking and did not continue.

He raised his hand and turned off the lights, returning the room to a darkness familiar to both Conrad Koz and the Midnight Ghost, and then he pushed open the door and left.

How can there be a real gap between brothers?

He sighed.

Arrogance is what it should be.

How could a demigod not be arrogant.
-
Khalil did not stay on the ship named Emperor Mirage, he left and returned to Nostramo.

But instead of taking those flying vehicles that looked mighty and extraordinary, he chose another way.

In the dark blue light, he walked out slowly.

The frost formed by the frozen clouds and mist on the ground was slowly shattering as he moved.After leaving for more than a day and a half, the shelter has not changed much, except that the door he made by himself has disappeared.

And
Khalil turned his head in surprise.He really didn't expect this.

"Mr. Roger Dorn?"

"Rogue, or Don—I've noticed the alienation of the word 'sir' in the context of you and Conrad. I don't want to be called that."

Khalil grinned.

Again, he was delighted by the directness of the giant before him.After some riddled exchanges and metaphors, it's always nice to meet someone who is straight to the point.

Roger Dorn frowned.

"Why are you laughing?" he asked.The tone is very calm.

"Because, there are not many people like you who put out the words and understand them, and I'm surprised by that."

After getting the explanation, Don's brows were furrowed even more. "I just don't like inefficiency."

He frankly shook his head.

"Right is right, wrong is wrong. There may be shadows in the middle, but there will never be many. Instead of using a series of metaphors to conceal one's true intentions, it is better to make it clear from the beginning."

"Therefore." The gray-haired giant gestured solemnly. "I don't think your surprises are necessary. I always have."

"Well, the inefficiency is really disgusting, in conversation or otherwise."

Khalil nodded thoughtfully, then turned to a new question.

"But, Don, where's my door?"

"It doesn't count as a door—in my definition."

Roger Dorn frowned again.

"It's full of rust. It's just a combination of broken wood and metal. It can't protect the house from the wind and rain, and it can't protect the safety of the property and the owner. So I took some metal on my own and planned to strengthen it. open the door and bring it back to life."

He paused for a moment, glanced at Khalil's expression before continuing: "...If you think this is inappropriate, I can stop."

"There is no need to stop. It is indeed just a product of my helplessness. However, you arrived in Nostramo alone again, shouldn't it be just to repair a door?"

"I also repaired a chair."

Don said calmly. "It's structurally flawed, and I rebuilt it with metal from an old water filter. But that's not all I'm here for."

"You want to ask me something, don't you?"

"Yes. I think you'll be back."

Roger Dorn nodded. "I want to know why your psychic powers are so strong, why it can make you change shape, why it can make us immobile and--about Lorgar, I'm sorry."

"Feel sorry?"

"I didn't expect him to take those terrible conjectures and speculations as the truth. In my opinion, he is usually a passionate and intelligent person."

"On weekdays?"

Dawn was silent for a moment, and then continued to answer: "...he will indeed become unreasonable because of his belief at certain moments."

Khalil couldn't help laughing. "Indeed, I agree with you."

"So, can you answer my question? If it involves some privacy, just ask me, and I won't ask any more."

"I cannot answer your question, Rogal Dorn."

Khalil said in a relatively gentle tone. "But it's not that I don't want to, it's that I can't. Even I am still looking for the answer to this question. I don't know much about it, so how can I answer it for you?"

Don thought for a while.

A foul-smelling cold wind blew in, and there was a chaotic roar from the street below.

As far as the environment alone is concerned, Nostramor can't even compare to the most inconspicuous corner on the Emperor Mirage, but Roger Dorn stands here calmly, with a noble demigod body, with a A rare heart.

It's really ironic compared to what Kalil thought.

A man who is good at using language as a weapon and mastering the art of using it, even to the point of instinct, is so weak inside that he can be refuted by just a few flawed words.

One who discards all useless rhetoric, speaks and acts directly to the essence, and is so tough that he can keep calm even in the face of unbelievable things.

Invaluable.

"I understand."

Roger Dorn spoke slowly. "Since this is the case, I will not ask any more questions. It is indeed difficult to investigate the truth of this matter. But my father believes in you, so I will also believe in you, Khalil Rohars."

"What if he doesn't believe it?"

"Then, I will find the truth myself to judge whether you are trustworthy."

Don replied calmly. "The premise is that my father will not stop me, or he has not ordered us to be your enemy."

Khalil nodded appreciatively.

Have self-judgment, but will not follow the rules and stick to the rules.

It's rare.

"It was a pleasure talking to you." Khalil smiled slightly. "However, since you asked me so many questions."

He gestured inquiringly.

"Of course." Dawn nodded calmly. "I can answer you anything I can answer."

"So, what do you think of Nostramo?"

"A place where there is no cure." Donne frowned immediately.

He didn't hide his true thoughts, not even a little bit of cover-up.

"Conrad once took us wandering around this hive city, and if it is used as a sample, I don't think Nostramo has any room for transformation."

He shook his head in disgust.

"Cannibalism, murder, anti-humanity, the crime rate is extremely high, the environment is extremely poor-the only valuable thing is the adamantine, and the adamantine does not need the presence of Nostramos to be mined."

"Indeed. Any more?" Khalil asked calmly.

He didn't deny Rogal Dorn's opinion - why should he deny the fact?
Although the latter's words are not pleasant, they are true.

Good advice is often harsh.

"Why do you ask this question?" Don frowned.

"Because I want to know your opinion."

"My opinion is of no value to you."

The giant shook his head, his clothes more like a uniform at the moment, and his expression made him look like a consul—or, perhaps, a serious king.

"You're determined to save it, I can see that."

"And the same goes for our brother Conrad Coates, I'm having a hard time convincing myself that he wasn't influenced by you."

"However, in the long run, this effect is always good. A hero who is compassionate and willing to save is better than a destroyer who destroys all darkness with violence."

"Furthermore... even if he really intends to destroy everything, what's the use of my opinion?"

"You can share that opinion with him."

"He hasn't fully discerned right from wrong," Dawn said seriously.

His short hair was blown by the cold wind, they were irregular, and the face underneath was extremely stern. "So if I speak my mind, in my style, he'll be bothered."

"You think he'll be bothered?"

"Why wouldn't he?"

Don asked back. "A one-and-a-half-year-old child, his attitude towards the world changes every day, but you laid the foundation. I'm glad he met you, otherwise, he would be completely soaked in the darkness of this dirty world."

"Don't you think it a disgraceful thing for me to impregnate his will with my own opinion?"

Donne shook his head calmly.

"I know who you are, Caryl Rohars."

Rogal Dorn, scion of the Emperor of Man, demigod, exalted Primarch—thus spoke in the fetid cold and darkness, his voice low but proclaimed.

"A truly shameless person will not be troubled by the idea that he instills in others, and a truly shameless person will not teach our brothers what is compassion and what is salvation."

"He mentioned that you were dying of suffering in the world, and I admire people who do that. I've lived a pretty long life, and I've met a lot of people, and there are very few people who can do that, and they Everyone can be called a hero."

"You think I'm a hero?"

Khalil grinned. "Rogal Dorn. Is this a joke?"

"I never joke."

Don replied calmly. "Enough chatting, if you have no more questions, I'm off to fix that door."

He raised his hand and pointed to the back of the shelter.

Khalil couldn't help laughing out loud.

So funny, so funny.

"Thanks, then," he said softly.

Don didn't answer.

The reason was actually quite simple—he didn't know whether Khalil was thanking him for repairing the door, or for calling him a hero.

However, no matter which one, he felt that it was not worthy of gratitude.
-
Fulgrim clenched his right hand, and felt a prick.

He pursed his lips.

Then, he spread out his palm, and a pendant was revealed in it.Staring at him, the Chemos had a somewhat melancholy expression.And this melancholy was actually the result of his efforts to cover it up.

After all, Ferrus Manus was not far away from him, ping-pong-pang-ping something with his right hand.

Closing his eyes, Fulgrim clenched his right hand again, and the stabbing pain hit him, but he let out a breath as if he had relaxed.

"If I were you, I would choose to rest as soon as possible."

Ferrus said without raising his head. "You're draining yourself emotionally, and it's not good for what you're going to do tomorrow."

".But how can I sleep, Gorgon?"

"You can figure it out yourself."

Ferrus Manus replied mercilessly. "It's not a good choice to watch me forge weapons here."

Fulgrim couldn't help showing a sad smile: "But I want to see it."

"Then you can see."

The giant known as Gorgon raised his head and glanced at his brother in his busy schedule. "You won't stop until you suffer. I know you too well."

"Oh—what does that mean?"

"Meaning, you have to hit something with your handsome forehead before you know it hurts."

"Where is my forehead handsome? It's just a part of my handsome!"

"Um"

"Hmm? What does um mean?"

"You're not sleepy now."

Ferrus shook his head. "But I still want to advise you to rest early, otherwise you will stand haggard in front of Conrad Koz tomorrow, losing all your manners."

"I have long since lost my manners to him."

The Chemos turned over melancholy, lay down on the sofa and sighed: "He must hate me so much now."

"Ah."

"What are you doing?!"

"I don't know how to answer you, but it doesn't seem good to leave you alone, after all, you are not normal now."

The blacksmith with the metal arms stopped his work, turned around, and began to rummage on the workbench behind him, and at the same time, he did not forget to answer and continued to answer Fulgrim.

"But since you mentioned hate—would you like to hear what I mean by hate?"

"Of course," said Fulgrim, with a sense of humor. "Gorgon's hatred is the strongest."

"Conrad Coates doesn't hate you at all."

Ferrus Manus stopped solemnly and turned to cast him a glance. "If he hated you, he would spurn you and despise you. But when he walked out of that door today, he was carrying a kind of disappointment, not those two emotions."

"How do you see it so clearly?"

"I'm a bystander." Ferrus replied calmly. "So of course I can see."

"But--"

"——No, but, Fulgrim. If you don't want me to call you Fulgrim, you can go out to your room to rest, and then face tomorrow's lesson to our brothers with a fresh mind. "

"But."

Ferrus glared at him dangerously. "If you say one more word, I'll say it right away."

"Is this a threat?"

"It's a statement of fact," Ferrus said gravely. "Get out, hurry up."

Reluctantly, the Chemos walked to the door of his brother's room and left slowly.Gorgon, who had a grim appearance, sighed after the door closed.

It's just a simple question, and a simple response is all it takes to get the right answer—why can't you see, Fulgan?

Conrad Koz doesn't hate you at all, if he hated you, he wouldn't be so disappointed in you.

Sighing, he resumed his work, forging the gifted weapon.

　sneak attack.

　　That's what Night Lords is.

　　(Well, the real situation is that there are things during the day, so I have updated the codewords in advance.)
　　Also, what do you guys think of the rhythm?Are you procrastinating?Is it normal?I also thought about fast forwarding directly to Kill Kill Kill, but after thinking about it, I decided to write more delicately.

　　After all, these people are too twisted. If they don't write more carefully, there is no way to make their transformation reasonable.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)