40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 493 11. The avenger

Horst raised his right hand and covered the face of an emperor statue with a clean rag.

Patiently and meticulously, he gently rubbed his hands over the surface of the statue, wiping away dust or unlikely stains. Candlelight flickered behind him, and the heavy rain made a monotonous noise against the stained-glass windows overhead.

The area near the church was extremely quiet, and no sound other than the sound of rain could be heard. It was completely different from that cruel night of massacre.

Just like Horst's hands at this moment, who can connect these hands that are devoutly wiping the statue with the blood-stained butcher's hands?
If they hadn't seen it with their own eyes, I'm afraid no one would believe that this priest could possess such superb killing skills.
But the facts are the facts, unchangeable, and as ruthless as time - and in the slow passage of time, Horst has done his job.

He wiped every statue clean except the largest one. He didn't even try, he just collected the rags and bucket and carried them into the back room.

Ten minutes later, when midnight in Litatra came quietly amid the raindrops, Horst also walked out wearing black clothes.

At this time, the appearance of the statue had changed. The emperor with closed eyes wearing a laurel wreath disappeared, leaving only a ghost with a hood and a vague face. Horst walked to the pulpit, also put on his hood, and took out two shining silver straight knives from his arms.

He slowly raised his hands, the blades sticking together tightly, sliding heavily with his strength. Sparks burst out, and the teeth-searing sound of metal friction continued.

Horst slowly closed his eyes, veins popped out in his hands, but the blades of the knives were firmly together and crossed.

"Let him do whatever he wants. Our respected lord has been troubled by bugs recently. He is unhappy with everyone. I have heard more than once that he got angry in the office."

Margunt obviously understood this, and he quickly changed the subject and began to talk about an Astartes chapter that was relatively unfamiliar to today's empire.
Well, let's call it a war group.

As Margant spoke, he suddenly shook his head, looking very sad.

"why?"

Horst slowly opened his eyes and saw a shadowy figure also wearing black clothes and a hood. He also had two sharp blades in his hands, but he didn't raise them. It was pitch black all around them, except for the sharp blades in their hands that emitted little bits of silver light, illuminating their surroundings and the path beneath their feet.

"What did it do?" Horst asked.

In an instant, indescribable darkness enveloped the entire church, cold wind gusted, and Horst's face was covered with frost in an instant. But he still closed his eyes and held up the sharp blade in his hand as if he was holding a torch. I don’t know how long it took before the cold wind dissipated.
Then, a disembodied voice sounded slowly in the darkness.

"Because he doesn't like anyone, that's why. He even got into a fight with a servitor a few days ago. He kicked the poor machine so hard that it was almost scrapped. As a result, our lord destroyed it again. I carried it to the technical sergeants."

The man named Margunt seemed to smile, but his smile was full of bitterness.

Horst was silent for a moment, deciding not to explore the story behind this incident.

"Come on, you haven't seen him at all. If it weren't for the connection between the fragments and the idol that allows us to communicate across the galaxy at midnight, you don't even know who he is. However, according to my subsequent investigation, That machine servant is not unjust."

He sighed: "To be honest, sometimes, I really want to tell them the truth."

Margant replied coldly: "There was a problem with its programming, and it judged a chair as industrial waste that needed to be destroyed."

"Same as usual, my friend. We're still fighting those endless cults of vengeful spirits, freeing them and moving their prisoners to other sectors. You understand."

In response, Margunt just sneered.

"This doesn't seem like his style." Horst replied thoughtfully.

"The Ultramarines have been doing very well on the front line recently. They have taken back eleven worlds from the bugs——"

Horst couldn't help but chuckle: "If you do this, I think Lord Severtalion will skin you."

"Nice to meet you, Horst."

"Me too, Margant." Horst nodded to him and lowered his hands. "How's the situation in Nostramo?"

He has been an avenger for twenty years, and he knows very well that some things are best not even mentioned, which is better for everyone.

"——They still stubbornly use their original names, but, to be honest, these worlds are dead. No, more complete than dead. Nothing can be left in the worlds visited by insects, not even the stones. Mom is full of holes.”

Horst listened silently without saying a word.

There are many horrors in the galaxy, and no matter which one they are, they are not friendly to humans. However, even if you look at the overall situation, it may be difficult to find a more indescribably terrifying race than the Zerg.

They appeared at the far end of the Ghoul Sector and on the edge of the Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar 2,100 years ago. Their appearance shocked the empire greatly. Even if it is chaos pollution, it will never cause such serious damage to the planet like these terrible bugs.
However, for most people in the Empire, they have never heard of this monster. Although Horst had heard of it, he had never seen it, and most of this credit must go to the Ultramarines.

Under the leadership of Robert Guilliman, they turned the five hundred worlds of Ultramar into an impregnable united fortress, and they resisted more than two thousand Zerg when the light of the Star Torch weakened to the point where it could no longer illuminate them. Year
This is an absolute feat.

After all, their support was pitiful compared to other war zones. But there is nothing we can do about it. Who makes the brilliance of the Star Torch keep weakening? Navigating subspace where the brilliance of the Star Torch cannot be seen is a complete fantasy. The Empire sent troops to support them countless times over the past two thousand years. In the first three hundred years, not a single fleet successfully arrived. In desperation, Markado, the master of the seal, had to find another way. It was at that time that the non-existent organization the Vengeful People was established.

Based on the pieces of black armor that were lost among the stars, a rudimentary but still stable inter-galactic communication network was established. Since then, according to the wishes of the holder of the seal, many factions have quietly emerged within the state religion that should not have existed in the first place.

They are well-read in classics and have devout beliefs, but the most pious among them usually do not enter the public eye. They either went to serve as priests in some unknown world, or they set off with the support fleet on a long voyage.

One of the more interesting things is that they often serve as priests in the slightly strange position of deputy navigator.
"What's new with you?" asked Margant.

He gave Horst a long moment to think, which, given his nature, didn't happen often. Horst was grateful for this, so he decided to tell a good thing.

"The fragment I was guarding became active," the priest said slowly.

Margunt's hands shook violently, and a few seconds later, when he spoke again, his voice had become very strange.

".What did you say?"

"The fragment I am guarding has become active."

The priest repeated again, but his companion still stood there as if he didn't understand, without giving any reaction.

"Do you understand Gothic, Margant?" Horst smiled triumphantly. "Or do I have to switch to Nostramo to talk to you?"

Margant finally breathed a sigh of relief.

"...You'd better not." He said slowly, with a very clear warning in his voice.

"Nostramo people are not allowed to use it now. This is a death order from Lord Severtalion. You'd better not violate it, otherwise I guarantee that he will let people go over and hang you on the statue."

Horst smiled, clearly.

"I have no objection, Margunt. Besides, if he comes too, maybe he can meet the respected Shen. A small team of the Shadow Knights is stationed on Litatra. They have just arrived a few days ago. I have heard that The story between them, the reunion between brothers after a long separation, is so beautiful, what do you think?"

Margant was silent for half a minute before asking the next question: "Have you read those books?"

"No."

"Then do you know Sigismund?"

"I've never heard of this guy." Horst replied quickly. "I don't know anything, Margant. Those are banned books. How could I have read them?"

"Come on, you bastard, where are the others? Why aren't they here yet?"

"Because of the time difference, Margant." Horst sighed. "You don't need to bring up such a topic if you want to change the subject, right? It makes you look very uneducated, do you understand?"

"You bastard!" Margunt cursed and raised the knife in his hand. This was not to threaten Horst or decide to beat him up, but simply to brighten the surroundings.

Horst accepted the curse with a clear conscience and raised the knife in his hand. Together they walked deeper into the darkness, and there were dots of silver light floating in the distance of their sight.
Horst knew that the others would be arriving soon, so he decided to do something with this time.

He said softly: "You know, I have found a successor."

"Who?" Margant asked in the same soft voice.

"An investigator," Horst said. "He is very talented. Also, what should be done after the fragment becomes active?"

"I don't know." Margunt, who had served as the avenger for two hundred and twenty-four years, sighed and replied.

"You do not know?"

"Of course I don't know. This is the first revitalized fragment, Horst. How did you do it? You have confirmed all the signs left in Konrad Coze's Book of Prophecies. ?"

"I've confirmed it all," Horst said. "It all matches."

"Then all we have to do is wait," Margant said.

They stopped talking, just held up the sharp knives in their hands and moved forward slowly in the darkness.

(End of this chapter)