40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 457 179. Terra (forty-one, in the eyes of mortals)

Orpeson noticed that his feet were shaking.

This is not a good thing. People always hope that they can remain brave at all times, and always hope that everything can become the most beautiful thing in their imagination. But the world is always cruel, and it will definitely send a warning with some signs at some point.

It will use this to tell you that you are not brave, just like I am not beautiful.

However, what right do people have to choose?

Orpeson reluctantly stretched out his hand, grabbed the edge of the Sun Spear, and complied with Constantin Waldo's request.

"Recalling the past is something you have to do." Standing opposite him, the Marshal of the Forbidden Army said.

His shining golden battle armor was wet and covered with sticky blood, which was spreading bit by bit along those gorgeous lines, dyeing the perfect golden color bit by bit scarlet in the seemingly natural lines.

The whole process was very natural, just as it should be. They were clearly not designed for this purpose when they were created, but they have evolved such effects over a long period of killing.

However, contrary to this bloody and aesthetic scene, Waldo's expression was very calm, so calm that it was completely impossible to tell that he had just experienced a grand killing.

Such an expression made Adebiman Basili, who was squatting above them, narrow his eyes slightly and slowly reveal a somewhat evil smile.

"You really don't know how to speak. Even we don't use Lord Constantine Waldo's commanding and persecuting tone very often."

The adjutant of the third company of Night Blade said with a low smile, as if he was mocking Waldo. The huge demon head he was squatting on was burning, but the dark flames could not hurt him in the slightest.

"Words are pale, actions are often more meaningful than words." Marshal of the Forbidden Army replied calmly, without even looking at the adjutant. "So hold it, hold it tight, Orr Persson."

Orr raised his head and cast a dry look at Adbeiman. The latter shrugged, jumping up and down on the demon's head lightly.

It is not completely dead, and the subspace spirits are being tortured in the dark and angry flames. The wailing screams are endless, but no one present feels that the sound is noisy.

Who hates the screams of the enemy? No one present had any extra kindness to give, no matter how much the war had worn down their humanity. Even if they really wanted to give away the remaining kindness, they would not give it to the devil.

Orr turned his head and looked at the thing, his throat rolling up and down.

He has lived for a long time, and although most of his memories have faded into the deep scars caused by time, he still remembers some things.

For example, the existence of the inanimate beings. These things come from the waves of chaos and are born with twisted forms and equally twisted lives. They are almost immortal and can only be killed in rare circumstances.

Orr knew some methods before and practiced some of them, but now, he has added a completely new piece of knowledge - of course, this is not the only fresh knowledge he has left in his mind today.

Ever since the gloomy ghosts of the Eighth Legion led him to move together in the thick fog, some new but increasingly disturbing knowledge began to rush into his mind one after another.

In the fragmented and chaotic time stream, he followed the Night Blades as they hunted the scattered companies of the Word Bearers, watching them fight and win or die. The number of occurrences of the former and the latter was almost equal, and Orr was greatly shocked by this.

In his opinion, these Astartes of the Eighth Legion were already inhumanly strong. Their proficiency in committing bloody murders is almost unparalleled in the entire galaxy, but the Word Bearers' depravity rivals theirs.

It was an odd description, no doubt, contrasting a corrupted and twisted traitor with a legion completely loyal to the Empire and Humanity, but Orr remembered a lot and had seen a lot.

In other words, he actually vaguely felt what the Night Blades were hiding under that human skin.

He was not surprised by this, after all, this was his Eighth Legion. He knew the man and how unbridled he could be when necessary.

Then the encounter that Constantin Valdo had just ended brought him to Orr Persson. It was hard to say that this was a coincidence, at least Orr himself did not think it was a coincidence.

Turning back the time a few decades ago, back to when Orr was still joining the army in order to have a piece of land of his own, as early as that era, he had already heard of these golden-armored guards surrounding the 'Emperor' .

People spread information about them and the Emperor on the streets, but most of the people who had actually seen them chose not to talk about it, as if they wanted to store that glory permanently in their hearts in silence.

Only some good people like to loudly preach the majesty of the Imperial Guard and the Emperor on the streets of the city, as if they have actually seen them with their own eyes.

Orr has also heard the stories of some of these people, for no other reason than out of curiosity. He left when he heard 'The Golden Guard' and decided that the content of these stories was actually half-truths, standard charlatan technique of telling only half-truths.

And if he were to evaluate it, then, in his opinion, it was definitely false that the emperor smiled and received a certain artist or a certain soldier, but the golden guard... ha, this is probably true. .

At that time, he felt that the person he knew was still the same person. He was also puzzled by this. How could a person's love for a certain color span such a long time?

However, now, when he saw Constantine Waldo with his own eyes, he realized that they were actually far more than just so-called 'guards'.

Each of them is his eyes, his mouthpiece, his extended hands and feet. When they hold the sword, it is equivalent to him holding the sword. When they kill, it is equivalent to him killing.

That is, he was looking at him.

Orpeson took a slow, deep breath, and then let go of his hand under Waldo's gaze, which was so cold that it seemed as if he was about to kill him, letting his fingers slip off the spear tip naturally.

His combat gloves had long been thrown into some stinky mud puddle, but despite this, his right hand was unharmed, as if this unique weapon knew when it should hurt him.

Orr naturally caught this, so he had the urge to sigh even more.

"No, I refuse," said Orr Persson. "Unless he comes and talks to me in person."

"He's very busy." The Imperial Guard flatly refused. "You understand his busyness, Orperson. Although I despise your betrayal, you are indeed one of the only people on Terra who can truly understand him at this moment. Therefore, stop acting so childish. .”

"I'm too lazy to refute your 'childish' point of view, but I never understood him." The man who once stood side by side with the Emperor spoke slowly. "It's like I still don't understand what this gem is."

He took it out of his chest with his left hand. It was quietly bound by a rough metal chain and hung on his neck. The heavy weight had already cut deep blood marks on Orr's neck, which looked very scary. Man, it seems as if he will be beheaded by this weight in the next second.

Orr held it up and tapped the gem gently with his fingers. Waldo immediately glared at him.

A nonchalant smirk slowly appeared on the veteran's face: "Let's talk about business, okay? Lord Constantine Valdo?"

The Marshal of the Forbidden Army nodded coldly.

"You see, he asked me to give this gem to 'him', so the question is, who is 'he'? Where is 'him'?"

Orr deliberately exhaled the sigh retained in his chest through his mouth and nose, deliberately arousing Waldo's disgust.

You actually wish you were like this - just pretending, Orr thought with a sneer, and said the following words.

"I'm not someone who doesn't know the importance of things. I know how critical Terra's situation is right now. So, let's be honest with both parties. Sir, I'll tell the truth."

"If I want to fight for humanity, and then die here, and regard this as my final destination, I will be very honored. This is my home planet after all, and no one wants to be buried in the earth in my hometown. But I won't No more fighting for him unless he explains it all to me.”

He stopped smiling, raised his head seriously, and looked into Waldo's eyes. His gaze had terrifying penetrating power, as if he wanted to stare at another person through these eyes.

"Everything," he said softly. "Nothing hidden. That's my only condition."

Waldo looked at him steadily.

Adbeman Basili whistled: "I was so flattered to hear so many secrets unexpectedly - then, I wish you good luck, Captain Orr Persson, I still have something to do."

He blinked, and the black flames in his eyes suddenly rose, and the fake smile turned into a real and terrifying smile after a brief pause. So Orr knew that the killer among this group of killers, the assassin among assassins, had another group of targets to kill.

But can you kill them all?

Orr suddenly wanted to ask him this, so he really asked: "How long are you going to do this?"

The adjutant raised his eyebrows slightly in surprise and glanced at him. He turned to look at Constantin Waldo again. After seeing the very obvious contemplation of the Marshal of the Forbidden Army, Adbeman raised the corner of his mouth, walked to Orpeson, and put his arm around him affectionately. "Okay, brother company commander." He called in a low voice, even using the word brother. "You get to the point of your question, but I can't answer you because we don't actually know the answer to it."

"But you might."

"Shhh" Adebeman winked at him. "It's unnecessary to say too much about some things. White space is a very important literary skill. Haven't you seen the poetry collection we published? It was a poetry collection co-signed with the Crows."

Orr shook his head.

"So, what about the book from our exclusive narrator, Bellows von Sharp?" Adbeman asked happily.

Orr nodded.

"Ha, I know you have seen it - in short, take care of your own affairs first. If we are all lucky enough, maybe you will see us again when you are hiding in a dark place and shivering in the future. .”

He laughed, let go of his hand, and pushed Ol Persson in front of Constantin Waldo, who happened to raise his head.

The thick fog roared and swept in, instantly surrounding the Night Blades. The gloomy lightning flashed away, and when the thick fog dissipated, they were completely gone. All that was left around were the demon's still-burning corpses and the souls of the inanimate beings who were being interrogated in the black flames.

Orr had no time to observe this scene anymore, because Constantine Waldo had already caught him and penetrated his chest with the Spear of the Sun. At this moment, his eyes were pure gold.

Orr spat an ancient curse at him, meaning coward.

'Constantin Waldo' also answered him in the ancient language.

"Orannes," he sighed quietly. "What exactly do you want to know?"
-

Floating, as if naked and returning to mother's arms.

Olanez hasn't felt this way for a long time. It's sad to say it, but it's normal to say it. In fact, he has already forgotten his mother's face. His memory was shattered into millions of completely different fragments, with no connection to each other but originating from the same source.

They are all the roles a man has played in human history, such as potter, soldier, lumberjack, priest, and teacher. The professions he has held and the lives he has experienced are countless. In the immeasurable long time, he has The mind has not gained any growth.

In myths and legends, people who have lived for a long time will always serve as wise men who guide the protagonist. They have gray hair but young faces, and their eyes are shining with vitality. They can always speak amazing words and are humorous.

But Olanez is not this kind of person. He is a cynical and drifting person, suffering from a long life and a broken mind, always switching back and forth between being confused and wanting to do something.

However, at the beginning, he was not such a person. He was once equally ambitious, hoping to use his eternal life to do something for mankind - or, in other words, for himself.

Until he meets him, until they burn the Tower of Babel

Then everything began to collapse, whether it was friendship, trust, or anything else, it all fell into nothingness.

"You destroyed me!" Olanez heard a side of himself scream. "How could you try to master that kind of power when you burned everything I hold dear?!"

"There's no point in bringing up old things again," the Eternal replied grimly. "If you just come here to vent your anger on me and try to put an end to this resentment that has lasted for tens of thousands of years-"

"--No."

Or Persson stood up from the darkness, coughing.

"Do not."

He said forcefully, and stuffed his profile, name, and the chaotic fragments one by one back into the depths of his heart, just like squeezing the barrel of a flintlock gun back and forth, pressing the lead bullets and gunpowder inside. .

He did it, even though it wasn't easy, he did it.

He has fired tens of thousands of flintlock rounds.

"I'm not here to ask you for an explanation. I'm not a nagging idiot or a resentful woman in the countryside. What's more, you bastard will never think that you made a mistake back then." Orr said. "I don't want to care about why you always try to keep everything a secret. Your bad character is not a gift from me. I am not your person and I can't control it. I came to you for only one thing, just for one thing. thing."

After he said this, he shook his head in a daze. The Spear of the Sun was still affecting him, the embryo of the weapon that had begun so long ago. Orr recognized it as soon as he saw it. Frankly speaking, he was actually a little surprised because he didn't expect

"You are actually serious." Orr Persson lowered his head and began to vomit. "How did you make it?"

"A little whimsy and tens of thousands of years of trial and error." said the Eternal One. "The former is far more important than the latter."

Orr raised his head and wiped his mouth. His tongue was numb, as if what he just spit out was not undigested food and stomach acid, but poison.

He coughed again and felt like everything was turned upside down. Fortunately, he could still stand and would not fall to his knees in his own vomit. Orr held his knees, bent over, and began to breathe heavily.

"Gem." he asked inarticulately. "Who do you want me to give this to?"

"I can't say."

"You fucking-"

"——This is not because of secrecy, or because I think you are not qualified to know." The Eternal One interrupted him, minding his own business, and continued. "Until the dust settles, all answers are meaningless. Even if I tell you, the answer may change at the last second. But you need to carry it with you until then, Olanis."

Orpeson did not speak, but slowly straightened up, and then lifted the metal chain from his neck so that the Immortal could see the deep blood stain.

"Your new friend, the one named Malcador."

"What's up with him?"

"He has a mission for me."

"Indeed." The Immortal nodded slightly. "But this is not your first priority. You have some other things to do before you can join them."

A sneer appeared on Orpeson's face: "It's strange that you are actually willing to explain clearly what I need to do in just a few words."

"Isn't this your request?" the Eternal One asked. "Or do you still think it's not enough? Do you have any other requests?"

Orr slowly shook his head.

"No more," he said. "Probably so."

"So--"

"-No, I have one last question." Olpeson suddenly interrupted him. "I want you to tell me all of this. Do you really understand what you are doing?"

No one answered, only Constantin Valdo's calm eyes and his right hand that could not be refused.

"It's time for us to set off." The Marshal of the Forbidden Army said, with a rare hint of fatigue in his voice. "We still have a long way to go."

What he said was true.

　This chapter is 5k, and there will be another chapter after dinner. Voting for the extras will end before twelve o'clock tonight. Considering that there are people who want to watch all three extras, I will postpone them according to the number of votes, and I have written all three.

　　After all, the New Year is almost here ()

　　

　

(End of this chapter)