Chapter 139 The Chosen One

Regardless of region, planet, or even humans and demi-humans, every boy has imagined that he is the chosen one.

They saw a great thing, so they first finalized it in the script of life as the starting point of their star-studded road of conquest, and carved it over and over again during the hour-long tossing and turning before going to bed every night. Every detail of the most epic scene in the script.

If there are exceptions in this world, then at least Fafnir Lane is not one of them.

Unlike other boys, even if the fantasies of all boys his age on the Wet were counted, Lan would still stand out with his unusual wishes.

"I will kill Dorn."

Lann fantasized about cleaning his two paired small axes, tying them to his waist, letting his mother hold his hand, and sitting on a brand-new semi-floating iron he didn't know what it was yet. In the cabin, we followed the tribe to the core of the land of Inwit Yongri, the fortress of Roger Dorn, the current leader of the Dorne family.

The iron cabin climbed from the underground to the ground, and also crossed the boundary between morning and dusk from the half world of night, and was embraced by the light of the half-extinguished sun into the day, gliding on the smooth ice.

Lan held his hands on the glass window and looked out. The sun was too bright, so he squinted his eyes.

He knew that right here, a thousand meters below the unfathomable ice surface, a wide underground river was like the blood vessel of the planet, along the boundary between light and darkness, sending warm water thousands of kilometers away. Each branch of the long river provides hundreds of tribes with a living on the water.

River of Life - When people move from one ice cave to another, when passing by this underground river, they will respectfully bend over and caress their chests, praising nature's tolerance and gifts.

The Dorne family once controlled the largest tributary of the River of Life, and Rogal Dorne expanded Dorne's territory to the entire Invite and even to several planets beyond.

Lann thinks this is unfair because Dorn is the bad guy.

His anger came from a simple hatred - he was still in his infancy when he was found by the Lann tribe on the banks of the River of Life. The corpses of two dead men wearing Dornish armor and a woman who was hunted until she was covered with bruises were there. Lie down next to him.

The murderous intention he cultivated in his ignorance towards Rogal Dorn, whom he had never met, came from the simple values ​​of revenge for his biological mother.

However, as many mythical warriors wearing armor fell from the sky, it seemed that many things were changing very quickly. Just as Lann hadn't figured out what was going on, the iron cabin was running from night to day.

One day the leader of the Lann tribe visited Rogal Dorne's fortress, and no one told him how many people his tribe and the Dornish family had killed each other, and no one encouraged him anymore, telling him that Fafni El Rann is the chosen one of the Rann tribe.

Later, the entire tribe moved to the ground together and lived in a strange but comfortable house. His time to practice knife skills was cut in half every day, and the extra time was used to learn sewing and cooking.

Fafnir Lane touched his small axe. The sharp ax blade gave the boy a simple sense of confidence. Today, on the day when his mother said, "The Phalanx is about to set sail," he was finally going to meet Rogal Dorn.

This made him eager to try. After talking to his mother, he ran to the end of the iron cabin with a wider view. Although he was still a boy, his ax could already defeat the less strong adults in the tribe.

The train track twists and turns up and over the snow-capped mountains, and clouds roll past the windows.

Lann breathed a sigh of relief and began to draw pictures on the foggy glass with his fingers without any knowledge of the teacher. Through the clear glass with the water mist wiped off by his fingers, he suddenly saw a huge building, ten meters, twenty meters... Lann couldn't estimate how terrifying and huge that golden-roofed building was, as tall as the snow-capped mountains themselves. things.

Lann was a little confused and didn't understand how humans could build such a tall building. He shrank his neck back, and for a moment he felt that his small self was being protected by the glass of the iron cabin.

Then, driven by the uncontrollable curiosity of childhood, Lan wiped away more fog and soon became immersed in the buildings in front of him.

There was a faint rainbow light floating around the majestic buildings that he had never seen before, which seemed to be some unknown means of protection. The flying iron tools flying back and forth intertwined like a loosely woven sweater net, busily transporting information and supplies.

Among them is a tower that is countless times taller than the Golden Dome Tower, directly leading into the clouds. The air transport platform unfolds at a level closer to the ground. Countless busy people are like black dots, intersecting with the flying iron machines with wings.

Further up, various conveying machines and closed tracks are connected by cables, like nets cast during fishing.

The huge building rose along the narrowed steel, and the port on the top was an open platform. Lann couldn't estimate its size. It might be dozens of kilometers in diameter. Some flying things fell directly from the sky and stopped at the top of the platform. How they disappeared onto the platform, Lan couldn't see, maybe there was a vertical well there.

Shadows and flickering golden light fell on the overly bright surface of the snow-capped mountains, burning Lann's eyes. He vaguely felt that the river of life and the tower were the same thing, and they also supported the lifeblood of Invite.

But the tower belongs to Dorne.

Why did Dorne build it?

The boy rubbed his eyes and wiped away the water droplets that overflowed from his eyes. In his memory, Inwit, where people lived by hunting and trading, seemed to have been turned upside down.

He is the chosen one, and he wants to kill Rogal Dorn.

Lan repeated to himself what he had said a thousand times, touching his axe, and suddenly a void appeared in his heart, a void that needed to be warmed by new light.

Lan heard a chuckle, which was the airflow from the nose, like the prey in the snow mocking the failed trap.

He heard himself talking and found himself turning his head: "What are you laughing at!"

The black-haired man wearing a felt hat, a dark brown fur coat, and a string of animal teeth and bone pieces on the edge of his clothes has been sitting here for a while.

He looks strange, and this strangeness comes not only from the strangeness of not knowing each other, but also from a sense of alienation between people. He sat alone at the end of the carriage, wearing different clothes from others, and his appearance seemed to be a little different. Surrounding him was a layer of air that did not belong to Inwit.

Lan could not find anything in his deep black eyes, which was also a void, a cold void where a predator that had already been full absorbed the light.

"I saw you say you want to kill Rogal Dorne," the black-haired man tapped his lips, "Your mouth shape said it."

"I..." Lann closed his mouth, panicking that he might have done something wrong. What if this guy is from the Dorne family?

"Don't worry." The black-haired man said, his tone cold. His accurate grasp of Lann's psychology made the boy begin to doubt whether the mind-reading in the fairy tale of Inwit really exists in this world. "I am not a Dorne, and I will not disclose today's conversation."

"I don't believe you." Lann said stiffly.

The man blinked. "Oh." He said, unexpectedly returning to silence.

The lone traveler's silence made Lann uncomfortable. He looked at the other person awkwardly, not sure if he had angered him. Soon he confirmed that the man's attention had completely left him and fell into a mysterious void. Lann breathed a sigh of relief.

This silence lasted until Fafnir Lane's growing sense of shame no longer supported him to continue standing next to the black-haired man and looking out the window. He hurried away and returned to the section of the train that belonged to the Lann tribe's representative team.

Not long after, the track that undulated with the snow-capped mountains and countless other rails fell into the most glorious fortress of Inwit like tributaries flowing into the main trunk.

Lann was told that they would transfer to a transport vehicle under Rogal Dorn's fortress and go to the shadow of the mountain called the Phalanx. As representatives of the Lann tribe, they would visit the great revival of the Phalanx and witness how Inwit entered a new era.

The boy didn't know what "Phalanx" was. Maybe it was a word that everyone had mentioned recently, a spaceship, he thought.

He jumped off the train step, and the tribesmen surrounded him waiting for the next arrangement. Lann touched his pair of axes and thought of the strange man he had just seen at the end of the train.

He soon saw him again.

It started with the soldiers clearing the way ahead after receiving the order, and they cleared the road for the approach of an iron-gray transport vehicle reflecting deep silver light.

A giant of astonishing height came down from the transport vehicle, and his stern expression concealed his extraordinary appearance. Lan held his breath and looked up at the iron man who was probably three or four times taller than him, his upper and lower teeth rubbing due to nervousness.

The giant walked to the side of the train, and his guards followed him. Five warriors were wearing armor decorated with yellow and black stripes, and their iron boots collided heavily on the concrete that had been cleaned and re-cast, and the powerful treading sound echoed in Lan's young heart.

When these huge iron armors passed by the boy, he realized for the first time so clearly how the word power manifested in reality.

"How is it, Morse?" The giant asked, using the Gothic language that has been fully implemented throughout Inwit in recent days. Lan tried to apply the language knowledge he learned to identify their words.

"The route design is good, and the quality of the train itself is also qualified. Well done, Perturabo - yes, I decided to praise you."

The black-haired weirdo smiled from his pale face, and the difference in tone made Lan En wonder if he was the same person as the one he met on the train. This guy now sounded lazy and casual, with a smile lurking in every syllable of his, like some kind of animal that relies on long sleep to spend the winter, and only becomes vivid enough in front of the right season or object.

"Okay." The giant nodded, "I will continue to improve the drawings."

The black-haired weirdo stepped on the ground. Although he looked much shorter than the giants and even the giants' guards, he undoubtedly found a balance with these tall humans in this relationship. Lan En envied this scene a little.

Then, there was an exaggerated commotion in the crowd, and many people inhaled together, which reminded Lan En of the blizzard tearing off the roof. Thanks to the fact that he squeezed to the front row at some point, he didn't have to be dragged around by people.

It was still an iron-gray transport vehicle, and four yellow-armored warriors walked out first.

The armor of these people was not uniform. Two people's shoulder armor was covered with rivets, and one person's armor was hung with a robe. However, there was no doubt that their uniform movements and terrifying silence, and of course the weapons they carried that were longer than mortal bodies, gave the warriors a majesty close to the sacred.

Then, another extremely tall giant, greeted and protected by the yellow-armored warriors, placed his majestic body under the sun.

The giant's white hair was short and neat, and his light-colored eyes shone like ice and snow on the top of the mountains. Lann caught the giant's gaze from bottom to top, from which he was struck by a cold and inevitable firm aftermath. Scratch the mind. His body instantly fell into the same chill as a cold night, as if it had been penetrated by wind, snow or lightning.

This giant - this combination of frost and gold, he is the character chosen by God. No, he can only be chosen by someone who is farther away than the sky of Inwit and closer to the origin and end of all things. The Eternal One.

The first giant nodded to the second giant. "Ready?"

"Climb the mountain formation and check the last round." The white-haired giant said.

"You can choose to believe it or not," the black-haired man said, "You will succeed. But if you must check it twenty more times and calculate the data forty times, I have no objection. Roger Dorn."

Roger Dorn. The name struck Fafnir Lane instantly. Is this the person he swore to kill?

At this moment, all the changes in Fafnir Lane's life - the good ones - rumbled past the boy's eyes, and the background of all scenes contained the image of this incomparably great giant. An angular face and eyes as clear as cold crystal stones.

This tall giant brought all changes and sublimations to Invite. Everything they have is due to him.

He tried to remember how his people had told him about his biological mother's death, and how his current mother had firmly declared that she would not hand him over to appease the anger of the Dornish people. Deep down in his heart, however, his admiration for Donne continued to grow. The conflicting emotions tore apart the boy's young mind.

"Rogal Dorn." He muttered the combination of words in a low voice, unsure of how much hatred remained in it.

Donne heard him, and his eyes glanced down, but he didn't pay any more attention. The impulse generated by being ignored overwhelmed Lann's will, and he suddenly shouted: "I want to kill you!"

Rogal Dorn's gaze returned, and Lan began to gasp. Yet part of him still took pleasure in being looked at.

"Your name," Dorn said to him.

"Fafnir."

"Lan." The weirdo in black robe added his last name.

Lan En's adoptive mother pushed through the crowd and rushed to his side to kneel down for him, but a ray of golden light held up her knees. This ray of light swept through the scene, forcing everyone to fall into silence.

"Lan," Dorn said, "the non-threatening family has surrendered." He said the words that were close to insult in the most objective tone.

"Cicero, Aeolus, lay down your arms."

The two soldiers drew back their guns.

"Why do you want to kill me?" Dorn asked calmly, "Tell me how you are dissatisfied with my rule."

"You did well, and we thank you," Lann said, his heart beating too fast to count, "but the Dornish family killed my mother."

"who is she?"

"I don't know," Lane replied.

Another giant walked up to Dorne: "There is no need to reflect on whether there is something wrong with your rule, brother. Apparently there is no wave of resistance among your citizens."

"No boy can hate without being incited," Dorn replied, still looking at Lan.

"There is no longer an echo of the voice of hatred in his heart," the black-haired weirdo said, cruelly peeling off the disguise in Fafnir Lane's heart, "He just wants to attract you. Let you hear him."

"You're crying, Lann," Dawn said. "what do you want?"

Lane was speechless. Tears frozen into ice.

"I will remember you," Donne said, no longer lingering.

The giants, their guards, and the black-haired weirdo returned to the transport truck one after another.

It wasn't until they completely disappeared in front of the crowd that the golden light lifted the blockade. Lane's mother hugged him and held him tight.

Lann stood numbly. Looking past his mother's hair, he saw a circle of light gradually lighting up on the shadow in the sky.

I am the false chosen one. Lan thought. The tribe lied to me.

And Roger Dorn. He chose the sky.

——

"It's running normally, I mean, everything is running normally." Morse listened to the sound of the mountain formation, opened his eyes, and gave the two busy giants a clear answer.

They nervously raised their heads from the countless flowing data, glanced at each other, and both breathed a sigh of relief.

"We have revived the Mountain Formation." Perturabo said. This grand project made the Iron Lord equally happy, although at least half of this joy came from the fact that he had obtained almost all the drawings and data of the Mountain Formation.

Morse wouldn't be surprised if he ordered Olympia to build its own Phalanx within ten minutes of returning to the Iron-Blooded.

"Thank you, brother." Dawn smiled. "This will be my gift to the Emperor."

"Then remember to remove your daily necessities from here before giving gifts." Perturabo said, "For example, your little blanket."

"Oh, I think you can keep it," Morse said. "I bet the Emperor will give it to you after receiving the gift. Why go to the trouble of leaving and taking the items you need, such as a rug."

Donne didn't answer.

Since Perturabo discovered Dorn's rug, he finally confirmed that there was something shy in the world that could trigger the stone.

"Then, let's set sail," Perturabo said. "I will continue to Ultramar. What about you?"

Dorn was about to speak, but the next moment, a bunch of shells that came from an unknown distance, drifting in a particularly strange way, flying everywhere, accompanied by a lot of sparks and smoke, tickled the void shield outside.

Although these inexplicable things did not cause any harm, Dorn still looked up cautiously. At the same time, a sense of crisis that was extremely rare for Rogal Dorn's rationality was spreading deep in the heart of the white-haired primarch.