40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 63 63. Failure
Anticlimactic.

That's the only word Khalil will use to describe his actions tonight.He even wanted to add another word to denounce his carelessness.

failure.

It was a total failure.

He sighed.

"So, you guessed this early on?"

Facing his question, Neos nodded calmly.

"They don't give up, never. Like a wolf that bites its prey, it won't let go of its fangs until it's completely killed."

"After all, they can fail an infinite number of times, but they only need to succeed once."

"You know them well," Khalil said thoughtfully.He is not asking, but stating a conclusion.

He closed his eyes, and psychically spat out a name that should not be mentioned.Neos frowned, raised his right hand, and a subtle golden light flashed in the air.

After a long time, he said slowly: "Even if it's spiritual communication, it's best not to mention their names, not any of them."

"It's just four false gods." Khalil sneered. "They're terrified of you, Neos."

"No, they are not afraid of me, but of the flame I stole."

The man wearing the laurel crown sighed wearily, and reached out to take a wooden cup from the table beside him.Like everything else on the Emperor's Mirage, this quaint mug bears the logo of a double-headed eagle on its face.

He picked it up, uncapped it, and drank it down.The smell of some kind of liquid medicine filled the air, and Khalil frowned.

"Are you hurt?" he asked briefly.

"It's not a big problem."

Neos lowered his arm, held the cup in his hand, rubbed its surface with his fingers, and blinked slowly.

"It's going to cost me a lot more than me. It knows it's its last chance and if it doesn't work this time, it never will"

He looked at Khalil and spit out a cold phrase.

"Got you."

"Interesting statement." Khalil narrowed his eyes, not feeling any discomfort at this slightly offensive comment.

He noticed some concealed truths behind Neos' words-Nios did not explain it directly, but hid the truth behind the words.

From another perspective, he really never hides anything.

"The knife you gave Conrad"

Neos spoke again, his tone was very calm, but his expression was a little dignified. "Did you realize what it was when you forged it?"

"Of course I know what it is."

Khalil laughed, very indifferently: "It's just a part of my essence that I no longer need, it's okay to give it to him."

"Fear. In some cases, it is also very useful."

"I can create fear myself."

"There is still a big difference between man-made and natural, instinctive fear."

"Then, he needs it even more." Khalil smiled slightly. "Isn't it?"

"Maybe." Neos said noncommittally.

"So."

Khalil sighed, leaned back in the chair, rubbed the space between his brows wearily, and mentioned another matter.

"I need to apologize to your bodyguard."

"He's still in treatment, and when he's healed, you can go to him yourself. But I don't think he'll take it."

Neos pursed his lips, a kind of sadness emerged again.

"He's broken."

The man wearing the laurel crown whispered. "Created by me, carefully designed by me. And when I realized this, it was too late. He became my shadow. He will not think, reject or question my words"

"And you don't like that," Khalil said. "Right?"

"I don't like it, but I need it." Neos smiled sadly. "The Emperor needs it."

Khalil looked at him noncommittally, there was no sympathy in his dark eyes-he would not sympathize with a person who had already made up his mind.He was just kind of sad, if anything.

"Conquest is a brutal process, Khalil. It will lead to countless wars, and the flames it will burn will be nothing like the tiny flames of hope you kindled in Nostramone."

"This kind of flame will burn countless people to death, and turn them into scorched corpses in pain. And those who survived by chance will also become distorted."

"Waldor is like this. He has experienced too many wars, enough to make him throw away everything except his loyalty to me. I understand their thoughts, they will take it as an honor, but I don't want it so."

He slumped his shoulders, muttering and repeating. "I don't want that."

"But you need to."

"Yes, I need it." Neos replied softly.

Their conversation ended there.

Khalil tilted his head back so he could relax in the seat.

The scene of killing flashed by quickly, he chose his punishment with a blank face, prayed in the dark, his right hand holding the gun, those children who were chained.
His hands began to tremble.

"A necessary evil," he said lowly. "A necessary sacrifice?"

"Yes."

Khalil smiled.

"Did your accomplishments in persuading others come from convincing yourself?"

Neos just shook his head. "I rarely convince myself, I just let myself see the right way and that's all."

the right way
Khalil closed his eyes and stopped talking, as if falling into a deep sleep.
-
Frankly speaking, Fulgrim's nerves have been tense tonight.

From the purge of Karyl Rohars, to the dispatch of the Custodians, and the sudden extra lock in their father's study.
All these things made the Chemos feel extremely tired.

Originally, in terms of his energy, he could continue to work intensively for days and nights without needing a little rest, but now, he just wanted to lie on the sofa without moving.

Of course, it was the sofa in Ferus Manus' room—or, to be precise, the sofa that Fulgrim had placed in Ferrus' room against his protests.

The Iron Hands would not allow such luxuries and comforts into his chambers.

"There are still ten days." Ferrus Manus beside the workbench said abruptly.

There are many blueprints in front of him, some are full, and some are still blank.The regular lines rest on it steadily, and the detailed annotations are densely covered in the lower left of the drawing.It is said to be a sketch, but the degree of completion is surprisingly high.

"What ten days? Nine days, Ferrus." Fulgrim replied sullenly.

He covered his face with a soft velvet pillow, which made his voice so muffled.

"Nine days after another hour," replied Ferrus Manus gravely.

He didn't look up to Rogue Dorn, or simply wanted to grasp the details.The reason why he talked to his brother in such a serious tone was because he was thinking now.

"One more hour and it will be nine days. When did you value time so much, Ferrus?"

"I'm not valuing time, I'm just trying to illustrate the difference."

"Difference? An hour difference, is it a big difference?"

"Sometimes yes." Ferrus said noncommittally, putting his hands on his knees, still maintaining a straight sitting posture.He looked at the sketches spread out, his brows furrowed more and more.

Fulgrim was silent for a moment, then removed the velvet pillow from his face.

"You don't want to refute me with examples from the special circumstances of the war, do you?" the Chemos asked incredulously.

".Before it was."

Fulgrim laughed—angrily. "When did I delay the promised time on the battlefield?!"

"you have not."

"Then why do you use this as an example?!"

"Because it is true." Ferrus turned his head. "Is not it?"

"There are many grassroots officers who delay fighter planes because they don't pay attention to time. Although they are not outstanding in the overall number, every mistake they make will cause unnecessary casualties, and sometimes even change a local battle that is about to win. into failure."

"The example you gave is too extreme." Fulgrim shook his head. "There are also many excellent officers. I can name a hundred of them now."

"So."

Ferrus turned around, folded his arms and looked at his brother, nodding expressionlessly. "Speak, I will listen and count."

Fulgrim stared at him blankly, not speaking for a moment.

After half a minute, he took a deep breath and nodded: "You are serious, aren't you?"

"of course."

"Well, Nascimento Furlong, Be—"

"——bang bang bang."

Ferrus Manus turned his head, stood up and went to open the door.Fulgrim sat down on the sofa seriously, and began to call out names one by one.He knew Ferrus would write it down, but he didn't expect to be interrupted.

". Fulgrim? Ferrus? Good evening."

A voice sounded from outside the open door.

The Chemos stood up quickly, and finally heaved a sigh of relief: "Good evening, Conrad, you came back really fast."

He couldn't help smiling, beckoned to his brother, and walked over affectionately at the same time.Ferrus silently turned sideways to let Konrad Curze in, who thanked him politely before he closed the door.

"Are you alright?" Fulgrim asked concerned.

".fine."

"That's something." Ferrus said calmly. "Also, Fulgan, you can continue to report names. There are still 96 left."

".Are you OK?!"

"What can I do?" Ferrus replied inexplicably.

"I'm really fine. Thank you for letting Akudona drive me down. He's a good guy."

"Um"

Fulgrim raised his eyebrows, and his expression became a little strange. "This is the first time I've heard someone praise him like that. But I still thank you for him, Conrad. Come and tell us, what's going on next?"

"Nothing special."

Conrad Koz shook his head and dismissed the matter lightly, his concealment was obvious.But Fulgrim and Ferrus didn't want to ask, they had seen something from their brother's reaction.

They want to respect him.

(End of this chapter)